


What Comes After

by JayceCarter



Series: Soulmates in the Wasteland [2]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Domestic Violence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Love Triangles, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Past Rape/Non-con, Polyamory, Rape Recovery, Slow Burn, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-08 20:13:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 26
Words: 58,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11089074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayceCarter/pseuds/JayceCarter
Summary: Scribe Haylen survived her time as a mate to the abusive Nate, though she gathered her share of scars. However, when fate gives her Deacon as a new mate, she isn't ready. Worse, it means she once against can't pursue the relationship she's always wanted with Danse. She isn't ready for any relationship, but how can she ignore the two men she's torn between? Danse, who she's always loved, and Deacon, who fate says she's supposed to be with. Will she figure it out, or will her scars be too deep to heal from?**This story follows 'Running' and the first chapter of this is a recap of the previous story from different POVs**





	1. Chapter 1

Haylen smiled as she pushed Danse’s shoulder, though with his power armor, he didn’t budge. He offered her a smile in return, that rare, honest smile he only seemed to give to her. He wasn’t the type to grin, to crack jokes, so when she earned a real smile from him it meant the world to her.

 

They’d circled around this attraction between them for months, neither willing to act on it, to even give it a name. Maybe it was because they weren’t mates, because they knew either of them could be bound to someone else in a heartbeat, maybe because they worried about fraternization charges.

 

Whatever the reason, they’d left unspoken whatever this was between them, like not naming it would make it safe, make it better.

 

But. . . she’d grown tired of that. If her time in the squad had taught her anything, it was that she loved Danse. She knew it, right down to her core, that it didn’t matter if they were mates or not; she loved him. The way he protected them all, the way nothing mattered more to him than his men, than his mission, she loved it all. 

 

And he loved her, too. Sure, he’d never admit it. He was too stubborn and too worried about regulations and behaving properly to admit it, to ever come on to her, but he loved her. It was in the way he smiled at her, the way his gaze stuck to her for too long. 

 

Haylen took a step forward and placed a hand on his chest, leaning up on her toes to draw closer.

 

“Scribe Haylen?” The confusion in his voice made her smile, especially the hope he tried to smother. “What are you doing?”

 

“I’m tired of doing this, of pretending.”

 

“This isn’t. . .” he cleared his throat. “We can’t. It’s not appropriate.”

 

“Please?”

 

He sighed, and she knew she had him. He set a hand on the small of her back and leaned down.

 

Pain shot through her temples. She would have hit the ground if Danse didn’t already have a grip on her.

 

Was this it? Was it what she'd been waiting for? Maybe the bond had just taken longer to latch into place for some reason. Haylen’s eyes squeezed shut as he tried to steady her breathing through the pain, through the sudden link to another person, to her mate.

 

After a moment, she lifted her gaze, ready to kiss Danse, to throw herself against him. He’d never turn her down, now. Regulations didn’t mean anything between mates, which meant they could finally be together.

 

His face held only confusion, and the other end of her link was far away.

 

She wanted to collapse as she realized what it meant, as she put together the facts. 

 

Danse wasn’t her mate.

 

#

 

Danse eyed the new man, Haylen’s. . . mate.

 

He almost couldn’t stomach the word.

 

No. He shoved the thought aside. He had to deal with this, couldn’t let Haylen see anything in his face. She’d cried that first night, after the link had been formed. Not that she would have admitted it, and maybe it would have been better if she’d sobbed in loud, ugly tears, but she hadn’t. She’d curled up on her mattress and cried silently.

 

So he had to be strong for her. She hurt enough without feeling guilty about him. It wasn’t like either could change this. Haylen had a mate, and it was this man.

 

They’d circled each other at first, neither saying anything, the man looking confused. He’d helped them throw off a feral surge, so at least he seemed capable. Still, that confusion remained, like she wasn’t what he’d been expecting.

 

“What’s your name, civilian?” Danse’s voice came out rough, and he pretended it had nothing to do with Haylen.

 

“Nate. Nate Cooper.” Nate took another step until he stood a breath from Haylen. “You’re not my wife.”

 

“Your wife?” She pulled back.

 

Nate shook his head, like he was trying to clear it. “I’m sorry. I just, I was frozen, I think. I had a wife, my mate. I thought I’d find her here, but you’re not her.”

 

The words sunk in, and even Danse cringed. Nate's mate was dead. It was the only explanation. Guess that explained the way he stared.

 

Haylen’s face softened, because that woman had a huge heart. Always had. No way to draw her in better than a sob story.

 

Danse turned his head away before the two touched, because he couldn’t see it. After everything he’d done in his life, all the things he’d accomplished, he just couldn’t see that.

 

It would hurt too much.

 

#

 

 

Haylen stood across from Nate in the small room. He’d helped Danse get the transponder, showing he was capable. After that, he’d asked if they could maybe spend a little time together, just the two of them. The police station wasn’t set up for that, not for the privacy mates would need.

 

Instead, Nate had cleared an adjacent building of the ferals and set it up for them. A date, he’d said.

 

Nate smiled and held out a beer.

 

He was handsome, she supposed. Tall, lean, a perfect face. He was the sort she imagined ending up with as a young girl. When he’d walked in that first day, she didn’t expect him to be able to fight, but he’d proven himself.

 

She took the beer, then tucked her hair behind her ear. “Thank you.”

 

“You look nervous.”

 

“Can you blame me? We don’t know each other. You might have had a mate before, but I haven’t. This is,” she took a gulp of her beer, then wiped her mouth with her arm. “well, it’s new to me.”

 

He laughed and drank his own beer, eyes tracing over Haylen in a way that made her uncomfortable. Nate did that, gave her this strange sense at times where she’d see something wrong in him, something that made her want to cringe.

 

Then he’d smile and it would drift to the back, like he’d smothered it. It made her uneasy, but she’d hidden it.

 

She didn’t want Danse worrying about her. Danse had been hurt too much already. This was just nerves, she was sure, just part of her rebelling against Danse not being her mate.

 

Nate walked toward her.

 

Haylen backed away. “What are you doing?”

 

“Finishing this. You know we need to touch to seal the bond.”

 

“I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

 

“Well, I am. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a mate, and I don’t like this half-done thing.” Nate darted his hand out and wrapped it around Haylen’s arm.

 

She gasped as the bond slid into place, the way it shoved the tight grip away from a moment, her knees weak.

 

“Finally.” Nate’s eyes closed, lips pulling into a smile that turned her stomach. It was that side of him that he hid, the one that turned her stomach. “I’ve missed this.”

 

“Let me go.”

 

“I don’t think so. I’ve also waited a long time for other things.” He yanked her forward against him, and Haylen bumped into his erection. His words sunk in, and Haylen tried to pull back.

 

“Please, let me go. I’ll tell Danse.”

 

“You’ll tell him what? You think I haven’t seen whatever that is you two have. Trust me, he’s trying very hard not to pay any attention to you and I. You’re a bit of a poor substitute for who I used to have, but you’ll have to do. Now, I’m going to suggest you go ahead and strip.” He released her.

 

Haylen stumbled backward, hitting the wall. She shook her head, wishing she’d worn her brotherhood outfit. Some stupid idea in her head had made her dress down, wearing a casual pair of pants and a tank top. “No.”

 

He cocked up an eyebrow. “Let me explain how this works. You are my mate, and that makes you mine. As I said, you’re not what I would have chosen, but that doesn’t matter much right now. You will do as I said, or I’ll make you do as I say, and trust me when I say it won’t be very pleasant for you. You can fight me, you can scream and scratch and hit all you want, but I’m bigger and stronger and faster than you are. You’ll lose, and I’ll make sure you regret trying. So, how are we going to do this?”

 

Haylen darted for the door, but Nate was on her before she reached it. Her face hit the floor, slowing her thoughts.

 

His lips pressed against her neck, and his hands fumbled with her clothing. “So we’ll do it the hard way. That’s okay, I don’t mind.”

 

#

 

 

Danse walked into Haylen’s room, and she slid backward on the bed, away from him. She knew Danse, had spent more time with him than anyone else, but he was too much in such a small space. He'd been in that room with Nora, Nate's old mate. They'd asked her about Nate, about what he'd done.

 

And she'd been a coward. She'd lied, telling them he'd never done anything to her. The threats he'd made had her shaking again, what he'd said he'd do if she ever told. But, in Danse's eyes, he knew. He knew what Nate had done. It was in the fury there, the anger that was not a normal part of him. 

 

He stopped by the door and stepped out of his power armor. He rarely took off the suit, and even after their time together, it took her a moment to remember how he looked without it.

 

“Can I do something for you, sir?”

 

He rubbed his hand over his face, then pulled a chair over to sit on it. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

“About what?”

 

“About Nate.”

 

The words drove fear through her. A month with Nate had taught her how vicious he could be, and he’d told her exactly what he’d do if she told anyone. “Nothing. There’s nothing. I said there was nothing.”

 

Danse reached for her, but she jerked away. He lifted the hands and moved back. “Easy, now. It’s just us here. He won’t know you said anything. Come on, Haylen, we’ve been friends for a long time. Trust me.”

 

“He. . .” her voice caught and nothing spilled out. She wrapped her arms around her waist and shook.

 

“It’s okay. Just, breathe for me, would you? Your color is not good. You may be the field scribe, but I don’t think you’re supposed to be that color.”

 

Haylen’s fingers dug into her sides. “I can’t do it anymore. I can’t, Danse.”

 

“You won’t have to. I promise. I won’t leave your side. He won’t do anything to you again.” Danse reached out again, but Haylen shrunk back.

 

He frowned, pulling his hand backward and rubbing it on his thigh. “Sorry. We’ll get through this, Haylen. I promise, you’ll be okay.”

 

She laid down and curled in on herself, because she didn’t believe him. Nothing was going to be okay again.

 

 

#

 

Deacon caught sight of the woman they’d gone there for and nearly tripped. He read people well, and that was one broken woman. Even without any bruises, the cracks in her shone clear in the way she walked, slow and watchful.

 

Field Scribe Haylen. Nora had mentioned the woman’s name, given him a little background. Sure, he already knew Nora’s background, at least some of it, with her old mate. Haylen had gotten the same treatment, it seemed.

 

But where it bothered him with Nora, it infuriated him with Haylen.

 

She sat in the chair, curled in on herself. Danse watched her, the same intensity he’d had the moment the conversation had drifted to her. The man was hopelessly in love; it didn’t take Deacon’s observational skills to see it.

 

Deacon leaned against the far wall, sunglasses on his eyes as always, trying to keep all the tension inside him. He wanted to cross the room, to pull her into his arms, to find the asshole who had hurt her on the other side of his crosshairs and blow the back of his skull off.

 

And where the fuck did that come from?

 

Deacon was a man who had seen a lot in his years and never had he felt that need, more than just a want, but something that was as close to breathing as he got. He had to touch her, somehow, to do something to help her. Anything.

 

But, even as they spoke, she refused. She cringed away and refused to leave. Why? Why would she go back to that asshole?

 

Fear. That was pretty clear. Whatever Nate had said to her had stuck with her. She was terrified.

 

Deacon walked over and touched beneath her chin, lifting her gaze to his. She didn’t shrink away from the touch, her eyebrows drawn together like she was confused.

 

“Do you want to die?”

 

She shook her head but didn’t break contact. Still, she didn’t get it. She needed to understand.

 

“Because that’s what he’s gonna do to you. The moment he thinks you’ve run out of usefulness, he’s going to kill you. So, decide if you want to live or not, because that makes this an easy choice.”

 

Danse shoved him, breaking the contact. He said something, but Deacon didn’t catch it. All he could see was Haylen, staring back at him, like she didn’t understand the connection either.

 

Fuck, he was in trouble.

 

#

 

Danse brought a bowl of food and placed it on the table he’d set up. He’d have rather set Haylen up at a nice place, but security mattered more than another else. They’d set up in worse places over the years. This bunker had only one way in, and he’d ensure the turrets and defenses would hold. After that, he shut down the elevator.

 

Not that Haylen had noticed any of it. She’d crept around the bunker, speaking little, avoiding him. She seemed more like a ghost coexisting in the space, just passing each other. She didn’t dress, wearing some pajama bottoms and a shirt, no shoes. She didn’t eat, didn’t seem to sleep. She cried sometimes, but it was always the same silent shaking of her shoulders.

 

“You should eat.” His voice had him wincing as it filled the silence of the bunker. His voice hadn’t ever been gentle, always with an edge of command and distance, but with just the two of them, it grated on his nerves. He wished he could speak softly, sound reassuring.

 

“I’m not hungry.”

 

“You haven’t eaten in two days, Scribe Haylen.”

 

She looked at him, and her eyes broke his heart. Nothing but pain in them. “Don’t call me that. We’re not Brotherhood here.”

 

“You need to eat, Haylen. You need your strength.”

 

“Why? What has strength ever done for me? It hasn’t helped me much.” She leaned against the wall.

 

Danse walked over, slow, crouching down in front of her. He caught sight of her hands. They shook. She needed the serum, but she hadn’t been willing to take it yet.

 

He didn’t understand why, hadn’t pushed. Somehow it felt important to not push her.

 

Danse reached over for the pack, taking out the medication and dosing it for her. “You’re in pain.”

 

“So?”

 

“So, I don’t want you hurting.”

 

Haylen moved so fast it startled Danse. She’d always been kind, always sweet, always steady. Not then. She leapt on him, knocking him backward, leaning over him. “I’m going to hurt no matter what. Don’t you get that? I hurt no matter what. This serum won’t help, time won’t help, if he dies, it won’t help. Nothing can ever fix this.” She collapsed down, against him, wrapping her arms around his chest and clinging to him. Wetness soaked through his shirt.

 

He swallowed hard at the contact before lifting his hand and rubbing her back. He wanted to tell her something, to promise her that they’d figure it out, but he’d never been good with words.

 

After a minute, she seemed to wear herself out. She pulled off him, laying down on the mattress, curling into herself.

 

Danse sat up. “Let me give you the serum. He’s done enough to hurt you already. Please, let me help you. I didn’t help you before, I didn’t see it. I tried not to see it. It hurt too much to see you with a mate, so I tried very hard not to look.”

 

Haylen said nothing, only held her arm out. Danse injected the serum.

 

Why couldn’t he know the right thing to do? Danse set aside and rubbed his face as he sat watch beside her, wishing again that things could be different.

 

#

 

Haylen met the gaze of the man in the sunglasses, the one who’d asked her if she wanted to die. She took a step backward.

 

“I’m not here to hurt you.” He lifted his hands, showing he had no weapon in his hands, just a small bag. “I’m Nora’s friend, remember?”

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

He lifted the bag. “I brought more serum. I know you shouldn’t need it yet, but I didn’t want to risk you running out of it.”

 

“Why?”

 

“You never know when things can get busy, when shipments slow down-“

 

“-no, not why bring them. Why are you bringing them? Why is it you? Nora could have brought them, or sent them with anyone, and she would have picked a female. You came. Tell me why.”

 

“Nora asked me to.”

 

She shook her head. “That’s a lie. Tell me the truth.”

 

The man’s lips tilted down. “Because I wanted to see you.”

 

Haylen stepped forward, bare feet padding softly against the stone floor. The ground chilled her feet but putting on shoes had seemed like too much work. She moved until she stood just in front of him.

 

He didn’t move, like he knew it might send her running. He wasn’t that much taller than her, much smaller than Danse. His body was lean, still stronger than hers, but not covered in muscle or built the way Danse was. He was more like Nate.

 

“What’s your name?”

 

“Deacon.”

 

She reached out like she couldn’t help it, her fingers brushing against his hand, over his wrist and his fingers. “Why did you want to see me?”

 

“I don’t know. I told myself I couldn’t come here, that I should leave you alone.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because after what Nate did to you, you don’t need anyone like me around you.”

 

She touched up his arm, fingers soft, reaching the edge of his sleeve. “I don’t understand this.”

 

He still didn’t move, even us his muscles twitched beneath her touch. “Neither do I.”

 

Then he was gone.

 

Haylen stumbled backward as Danse shoved Deacon backward, placing his large body between her and Deacon.

 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Danse never cursed, and even the mild one had her flinching, drawing backward, away from the men.

 

“Nothing. I wasn’t doing anything. Just bringing the serum.”

 

“Yeah? What was with the touching then? Damnit, Deacon, you know what she’s been through. She doesn’t need you here pulling this.”

 

“I wasn’t pulling anything.” Deacon held the bag out. “Just handing this off.”

 

“Yeah, and you needed to be all over her to do it?”

 

“Just so we’re clear, you don’t own her any more than Nate does.”

 

Danse threw a single punch, catching Deacon in the eye. It broke the sunglasses, sent them skidding across the floor in pieces. Deacon followed much the same suit, since an unexpected punch from Danse would have anyone on the floor.

 

Haylen stepped forward to help, the sight of blood always enough to spur her into action. Danse turned, jaw tight, and it drove her back.

 

He’d hit her.

 

Even though she knew he’d never do it, the part of her that had endured the months with Nate was sure Danse would do to her what he’d done to Deacon. She flinched, lifting her arm to shield herself. Make yourself a smaller target, that’s what she’d learned. Protect vital parts. It was all you could do when someone was bigger and stronger than you.

 

“Haylen. . .” came out the broken voice of Danse.

 

Her courage fled and then she fled. From him, from Deacon, from the anger in the room, from the hurt in Danse’s face.

 

He’d done so much for her and she’d hurt him. Again. Always. Why was she here? She was nothing but a burden to them. Useless.

 

She wanted to run, to leave, but there was nowhere to go. The only exit had the two men in the way. So she went to her bed, pulled the blankets around her and curled into a ball.

 

Maybe if she made herself small enough, it would all go away.

 

#

 

Danse turned a glare on Deacon. “This is all your fault.”

 

Deacon stood, rubbing his arm over the split lip. He must have hit it on the ground when he’d gone down. “I know.”

 

“What are you even doing here? And don’t tell me it’s the serum. Haylen doesn’t need any for almost a month, and you’ve got plenty of other things to do than bother her. She’s been through enough already.”

 

Deacon said nothing, just shifted his shoes on the ground. “Yeah. You’re right. I won’t come back.”

 

Danse waited for a joke, something to ease the tension, but Deacon gave him none of that. He just let out a sigh and stuck his hands in his pockets.

 

And it was the first time Danse had seen him without his sunglasses. It felt like seeing someone naked, vulnerable.

 

And already bruising. Yeah, he’d have a shiner after that hit. Not that Danse felt inclined to apologize for it. Hell, thinking about how close Deacon had been to Haylen, it twisted Danse’s stomach. He didn’t know Deacon that well, and the idea that he could be a danger to Haylen infuriated Danse.

 

Or the idea that Haylen might care for Deacon. But, after everything with Nate, after feeling like he’d lost her, he was feeling jealous and protective.

 

Deacon turned and walk to the elevator, pausing before the doors closed. “If she needs anything, let me know. I won’t come back, but I’ll do whatever I can.” The doors slid shut.

 

Back inside, Danse found Haylen curled into a ball.

 

The way she’d flinched burned in his mind. He sat beside her. “Sorry, if I scared you. I didn’t mean to. I, uh, well I’d never hurt you.”

 

“Just let me go,” she whispered.

 

“You aren’t a prisoner.”

 

“Aren’t I? Can I leave?”

 

“This is the safest place there is. It’s well fortified, we have an emergency back exit if we need it, and there is only one reasonable way in.”

 

“That wasn’t what I asked. I asked if I could leave. Can I get up and walk out by myself?’

 

The idea of her out there alone, unprotected? Hell no. His lack of an answer must have told her.

 

“That’s what I thought.”

 

Danse reached down and set a hand on her arm, but she jerked away from him.

 

And that hurt. . .

 

“I just don’t want you hurt again.”

 

“Go away, please.”

 

Danse sighed, but did as she asked. She’d had so much stolen from her, so many things forced on her. He refused to not follow a request if he could. So, he left her alone, even when it killed him to do so.

 

#

 

Deacon stayed put even when Nate drug Haylen in. He wanted to leap the table and tear the man apart, but that wasn’t Deacon, and that wasn’t useful.

 

Deacon was a thinker. He was a planner. He wasn’t someone who acted on impulse.

 

He barely heard the back and forth, eyes on Haylen. She shook, a bruise over her eye. Nate talked about her like she was a dog, a pet he was showing off.

 

She wouldn’t look at him. Haylen moved like there was nothing left inside of her, like everything had been burned away. Even if they survived this, Deacon wasn’t sure she’d ever recover. He didn’t know if there was anything left inside of her, or if she even wanted to get better.

 

Then a spark in her eyes as she listened to Nora. She reached into the medkit, and he couldn’t hide a grin when she wrapped her hand around a scalpel.

 

She buried it into Nate’s hand, and that was his signal.

 

He charged toward her, taking her to the ground, pinning her. She shoved at his shoulders, but fuck, he’d rather she be scared than dead, so he used his body to keep her safe.

 

The firing of bullets had him cradling her face against his throat. He whispered to her, tried to calm her. What was even coming out of his mouth?

 

He had no idea. She shook, crying out after a moment.

 

Didn’t take much to know it was Nate’s death. Breaking a bond hurt, much like forming one. She trembled, her nails digging into his ribs as she gasped.

 

Then something else happened, a pain behind his eyes that blinded him for a moment. He held her tighter, fighting against the waves of pain that moved toward nausea. What the hell?

 

Another gasp beneath him, along with a terrified whimper. She shoved at his shoulders, breathing fast and uneven.

 

Deacon leaned up, staring down at her, as everything slid into place.

 

The protectiveness. The want. The connection he couldn’t explain.

 

Haylen was his mate now.

 

Danse was going to kill him.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

Haylen’s lungs wouldn’t work. She tried to breathe, but the damned things seemed useless. Above her, Deacon scrambled up, off her, but the damage was done. They were mates, and since he’d been shielding her, the link had been sealed.

 

She couldn’t escape him.

 

She’d just escaped one mate, just gotten her life back, and here she was with this stranger. She was owned again, at the mercy of a man she didn’t know.

 

And there went her stomach. She stumbled to the side, gagging. Someone passed her a bucket, she didn’t bother to see who, and she heaved into it. Some went into her sinuses, her throat burning. After a moment, she lifted her eyes and caught the mess that had been Nate, just blood and pieces she couldn’t identify. And again with the throwing up.

 

She still hurt, like a wound, like something was missing. Some part of her had been ripped away when Nate had died, and even if she was glad he was gone, it hurt. The new link with Deacon didn’t help, like using a muscle you’d pulled. It chafed, reminding her of the hurt, of the loss.

 

She didn’t want Nate, but damn, losing him still caused a physical pain, one deepened by this new link.

 

A hand set on her arm and she stumbled backward, flinching away. She’d never flinched before Nate, but now it was all she did. She set the bucket down and wiped her mouth with her sleeve, wincing when she aggravated a cut there.

 

Nora stood in front of her, hands up. “You’re okay.”

 

Haylen shook her head. “No, I’m not. I’m really not.” Her eyes darted over to Deacon, then away again. She craved him already. She wanted to walk over to him, to touch him, to rub her face against his neck.

 

What the hell was wrong with her? She knew exactly what having a mate could mean, but biology did what it wanted.

 

Who was he? She knew nothing about the man in the sunglasses, the one who was now her mate, the one she was bound to until one of them died. Was he like Nate? Her only experience with mates was Nate, and she lived through one, she wouldn’t survive another like that.

 

Nora followed her gaze, darting between Haylen and Deacon. “Fuck.”

 

Deacon nodded, but came no closer. He stood back, hands on his hips, the same aloof behavior she’d seen with him every time. He seemed to like to stay to the outskirts and watch, and she suspected he never missed a detail. “That sums it up pretty well, I think.”

 

Gage started to laugh, bracing his weight forward on his knees.

 

“You are not helping at all,” Nora snapped.

 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but come on. This shit is hilarious. Danse is going to murder him, and let’s be honest, no one deserves that more than Deacon.”

 

Was Deacon that bad? Haylen took another step away.

 

Nora pointed a finger at Gage. “Well, guess what? Your new job is to disarm Danse before he finds out about this. Maybe next time you’ll control your laughter.”

 

“Not likely,” he said, chuckling and shaking his head as he walked out.

 

Danse.

 

Just the reminder made her stomach twist again. The name drug blades down her back. How would she ever look at him again? How could she ever face him again? She was failing him. She gagged once, but at least there was nothing left in her stomach.

 

Nora took one look at Haylen’s face. “Deacon, you want to give us a minute?”

 

Deacon nodded, but he didn’t seem to be paying a lot of attention, like he couldn’t focus. “Yeah. Yeah, sure Fixer.” He left the Inn. She couldn’t sense anything from him through their link, but maybe that was because her own mood was all over the place. Maybe she couldn’t feel anything because she couldn’t focus, because there wasn’t room inside her head for anything beyond what she already felt.

 

“Alright, they’re gone. Just us here, now. Is that better? How about you take a seat before you sit down?”

 

Haylen took a step toward her until she spotted the body again. So much blood. He deserved worse, but it still had her shaking.

 

“Yeah, no, not that way. You don’t need to see that. Come on, Vadim has a room back here. We’ll go there.” Nora indicated the way but didn’t touch Haylen, like she knew it would send her away. Any touch had turned to razors for her, to just a prelude to expected violence.

 

Haylen all but collapsed into the seat, her legs giving out. She leaned forward, dropping her head near her knees.

 

“Just breathe nice and slow. In and out, and try to draw them deep. ” Nora set a can of purified water on the table between them. “Might help to wash the taste out of your mouth. Trust me, I’ve thrown up plenty of times. It passes.”

 

Haylen spoke, words muffled by her position. “This isn’t fair.”

 

“I get that. You and I haven’t really talked much, which I guess is strange given how much we have in common. I guess, I didn’t feel like it was my place. I mean, I’m a total disaster, who am I to tell you anything about any of this, fuck knows I don’t have a handle on it. But if anyone could understand what you’ve been through, it’s me. When I woke up and thought Nate was dead, I was so happy. I thought I was free, finally. Then I felt that snap when I bonded with Gage and I said the same thing. I screamed that it wasn’t fair.”

 

Haylen lifted her head enough to look at Nora, to really look at her. She hadn’t spent much time thinking about her because it hurt. A petty part of her didn’t like Nora, either, since Nate had so often compared them, and found Haylen lacking. Nora was the woman she couldn’t live up to, a reason for Nate to hurt her. Now, though, it made her chest ache.

 

Nora had survived because she was tough. Nate had said as much. Nora had fought, she’d struggled, and in the end she’d outwitted and killed Nate. She was healing and better because she was strong.

 

Haylen had given in because she wasn’t as strong. Because she wasn’t as smart. Because she wasn’t as good. When Nate had yelled, she’d cowered, she acquiesced out of fear. She’d never been enough, and now she had a new mate to deal with, a new mate to fail, to suffer through.

 

“Whatever is going on in your head, stop it. Whatever Nate said, he was a liar. He said what he had to to try and control you. It doesn’t make it true. I know you don’t have any reason to trust me, but Deacon is a good man. He’d never hurt you, not like Nate. I don’t know what’s going to happen, I can’t pretend to have an answer about Danse and Deacon, but I can tell you that neither will do what Nate did. You’re safe.”

 

Haylen swallowed, a loud gulp in the quiet room. “Do you think you could get me a Nuka Cola? My stomach is upset and I think it might settle it.”

 

Nora nodded and stood, seeming energized by the chance to do something, anything, like she’d been wanting to help but didn’t know how.

 

As soon as she left, Haylen slid out the back door.

 

She couldn’t stay and face either men.

 

#

 

“Tell me whatever is going on, now.”

 

Gage crossed his arms, the look of a man who had no intention of giving in. “How about you hand over your rifle, then we’ll talk. I don’t want anyone getting shot.”

 

Danse wanted to refuse, but something in the set of Gage’s shoulders told him he wanted to hear what the man had to say. He handed his rifle over.

 

“There’s a problem with Haylen.”

 

Danse reached for the weapon, and realized Gage had been right to take it. How did that woman shake him so? “What’s wrong? Is she okay? What does she need?”

 

“She’s all right. Sort of. Look, fuck, I won’t beat around the bush here. Nate showed up. He wasn’t nearly as dead as we though. No, settle down, we got him, and I made fucking sure he’d gone for good. Mostly just a pile of goo right now. Haylen’s alive. But, it’s worse. I don’t know how to say this, but Haylen’s got a new mate.”

 

Danse took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He’d known, somehow. He’d known he’d never have Haylen, that life would take her away. Life liked to steal things he wanted from him, and he’d wanted nothing more than her. And he knew exactly who it was, too. “It’s Deacon, isn’t it?”

 

“Yeah. Shit, I’m sorry, I know this sucks. Gotta hurt, I see how you look at her. Deacon ain’t thrilled about this either I don’t think. The bond is already sealed, too. During the fight, Deacon threw himself over her to shield her, and, well, yeah. It’s done.”

 

Danse wanted to be angry, but he just couldn’t. The hurt ran too deep, dug out too much of him to give energy to anything else. Fate kept snatching Haylen away from him, kept shoving them apart. Now he had to say goodbye to her again, because there was no way to win over someone else’s mate. “Is Deacon safe? I mean, for Haylen. Just, tell me that he wouldn’t hurt her. I don’t know him, but I need to know that.”

 

Gage sighed, like the whole conversation was exhausting. Then again, Gage hadn’t had an easy few weeks either. “Deacon is a snarky asshole who is shady as fuck and horribly annoying. However, he looks at Haylen a lot like you do. He wouldn’t ever hurt her, not like Nate did. But, this isn’t you just throwing in the towel, is it? Because, you and her, you’ve got something.”

 

“What does it matter if we have something? We aren’t mates, and it’s pretty clear by this point that we never will be. Nothing is going to change that, so how does it matter what I feel about her? You can’t fight biology.”

 

Nora walked in, hesitating for a moment when she saw Danse. She offered a sad smile, the sort that she handed like a participation trophy.

 

Gage looked over his shoulder, and when his eyes rested on his mate, he smiled. “Everything okay?”

 

That smile broke Danse’s heart. That’s what he wanted, that connection, that bone deep knowledge that you were meant to be and that nothing would ever take it away. He already had that with Haylen. When he looked at her, he already felt that way, like he spotted a piece of his heart that had wandered off, but now he knew that piece belonged to someone else. It wasn’t reciprocated.

 

“No, not really. I was talking to Haylen and she asked me for something to drink to settle her stomach. I turned my back for a minute and, well, she’s gone. I asked the guards, and she’s already left town.”

 

Danse was out of the room before anyone said another word. There was only one person who could help him find her, and he’d shove down all his feelings to keep her safe.

 

#

 

Deacon sat in the room he’d rented, scrubbing his hand against his face, trying to ignore the link. Poison poured through it, soaking him until he wanted to shower just to wash it off. Pain, anger, confusion, all the things that swamped Haylen swamped him.

 

He wasn’t angry with her about it. It wasn’t frustrating because she felt it, but because he had to sit there and do nothing. He could do nothing.

 

By now, Danse was with her, trying to comfort her. Danse was better at it, Nora was better at it, hell X6 was better at it than Deacon. He wasn’t exactly a touchy-feely in touch with his emotions sort of man. He couldn’t even tell the truth, which made him entirely unequipped to help her, no matter how much he wished he could.

 

But when he felt wave after wave of agony from his mate, he wished he was. He wanted to run his fingers through her hair, to whisper against her temple it would be okay. He couldn’t do that, so he tried to take all her panic for her, to tried to hold it on his end, to take all he could off her.

 

He’d take anything for her. If only he could do more.

 

The door to his room slammed open, and in the doorway stood Danse.

 

Well, he’d lived a good life. Getting killed by a Brotherhood Paladin wasn’t a shock, but he’d always figured it would be due to his work with the Railroad, not because of a woman. Women hadn’t really messed up his life often, probably because he avoided them most of the time.

 

And, hell, maybe he’d have fought it with anyone else.

 

Deacon had lived a long time, survived things that would have drug under a better man. He had no problem taking out any threat to him or his ideals. But this was different.

 

With Danse? Haylen loved the idiot, and Deacon wasn’t about to take a single thing away from Haylen. An hour as a mate and he was already whipped.

 

“Go ahead,” Deacon said. “Avoid the face if you can, I paid good money for it. I was looking forward to an open casket.”

 

Danse’s lips pressed together, white from the pressure. “Haylen has left Diamond City. She tricked Nora into leaving her alone and ran off. I need your help to find her.”

 

And there went all the anger and animosity. Deacon stood and went to gathering his things, shoving them into his pack.

 

He reached across their link. The same thing. Fear, panic, anger. She yanked away from their link, so hard he stumbled.

 

Damn, this link thing was new.

 

“Is she alright?” Danse asked the question with all the underlying anger, like he hated that he had to ask a stranger about her.

 

Deacon held the wall for a moment, catching his breath. “I think so. She’s been upset since, well, you know. So, she’s afraid and angry, but I don’t feel any change in that, so I don’t think there’s any new danger. This isn’t a well-honed skill for me, you know.”

 

“You stumbled.”

 

“She doesn’t like it when I reach through our link.” Deacon pulled his pack over his shoulder, then slid his sunglasses on. “Come on. We have a scribe to catch.”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

Danse stood outside the police station. It seemed dead, much like most of the Commonwealth. Just a carcass waiting for the maggots of the wasteland to devour it. The dead had been removed, transported for return to the Citadel. Of all places for Haylen to return to, this one surprised him.

 

But, then again, it was the only place she really knew here, wasn’t it? It was the place she’d belonged to before Nate, before everything was stolen away. This was her base, the only place that had been hers. Where else would she run, really?

 

“She’s in here,” Deacon said, hands in his pockets, forcing a calm exterior that didn’t match the anxiety inside of the man.

 

They’d spoken little, just rushed to reach Haylen. They’d moved fast, with purpose. Haylen was no weakling, a trained brotherhood soldier who could care for herself, but the idea of her alone terrified Danse. She’d had too much happen to wander alone.

 

So the two men had made the journey without conversation. What was there to say, really? Deacon had won.

 

Danse wanted to kill him, held out this sad hope that maybe, this time, he could become Haylen’s mate, but that was a foolish hope and he knew it. Killing Deacon would only hurt Haylen again. Danse was a realist, and he and Haylen simply didn’t fit. Nature seemed to know it, so he needed to accept it as well.

 

He’d find Haylen, he’d help her transition to Deacon, and then he’d leave her be. There was nothing else for him to do. The idea killed him, the image in his head of how he’d have to walk away from them, the way he’d need to help Haylen accept Deacon, it all hollowed him out.

 

But he’d do what he had to. He loved her that much.

 

“She likely already knows we’re here. Let’s head in.”

 

Walking into the doors felt like walking back in time. It reminded him of all the times he’d done this, that he’d stepped into this building, the leader of his squad, trying to keep them alive in the unforgiving wasteland. But, that was his old life. Most of them were dead, now. Only Haylen remained, always out of reach.

 

As soon as they entered, they found her.

 

She sat on the counter, back against the wall, eyes closed. She didn’t even bother to look their way. But, she knew Deacon was close, didn’t she? Their link would tell her it was him, and the hissing and clatter of Danse’s power armor had been a constant in her life. She’d know it anywhere.

 

“It didn’t take you long to find me.” Her voice was rough, tired. She had a black eye, a split lip. It had to be from Nate, which meant she hadn’t taken care of herself.

 

His hands closed into fists at the sight of her injures, at the fact he hadn’t been able to take any anger out on the man who had hurt her. He was dead, out of Danse’s reach. “I was worried when you ran off.”

 

Her eyes opened, at least the one did. The other had swollen shut. “You’re always worried about me. You gave up everything for me, and I keep messing it up, don’t I?”

 

Danse stepped out of his power armor and crossed the room, slowly. The way she’d pull away from him always broke his heart, so he tried not to startle her. He reached beside her, so he stood next to the counter she sat on. “You haven’t messed anything up. None of this has been your fault. I don’t blame you for anything, Haylen. This has all been unfair to you, but none of it has been your fault.”

 

She turned, swinging her legs over the side of the counter so she sat next to him. “Does it really matter whose fault it is? Does it change anything? We’re still exactly here.”

 

Her clothing had loosened over the past month, her skin growing more pale. She’d lost so much of that spark he’d loved, the way she’d laugh and bring a smile to anyone around. No one could joke like her, the light of their whole group. Now she never smiled.

 

He missed her smile. There had been a time he’d lived for that smile, to draw one from her. She’d laugh, joke about how strict he was, and she’d make him feel like maybe he belonged. For once in his life, he belonged.

 

Her hands trembled. Nerves or the bond? “Do you require another dose of serum?”

 

A bitter laugh slipped from her. “There isn’t any more. Nate destroyed it all when he found me. It’s all gone.”

 

Of course Nate had. He’d never miss a chance to hurt someone, to hurt Haylen. With the Brotherhood gone, with Cade gone, they had no way of creating more serum. It meant that small amount of freedom for her had shattered along with the medication.

 

Deacon took a step forward, eyes locked on Haylen’s shaking hands like he couldn’t help it. Hell, maybe he couldn’t. Instinct was a powerful thing.  

 

She slid closer to Danse, pressing herself against his side, going slightly behind him. “Don’t you touch me.” Her voice lacked the edge of a threat, bordering on a plea.

 

Deacon lifted his hands and took a step backward. “You’re going to start hurting. After the shaking, it won’t take long. I’m not going to do anything else. I just want to help.”

 

And what a place to be? She needed Deacon. As much as he hated it, as much as he wanted to tell Deacon to get the hell out, she needed him. He wouldn’t watch her suffer just for his own pride.

 

Instead, Danse wrapped an arm around Haylen and led her off the counter, tucking her into his side. The way she pressed into his warmth, into his side, it helped. She’d pulled away from him so much, and while he understood it, it always hurt. This trust? It might have just been a reaction to her suffering too much, her being at her limit, but he’d take it. He guided her to the back room, nodding his head at Deacon to follow.

 

Danse sat on the couch they’d set up, Haylen all but sprawling out beside him, keeping the contact like it tethered her. “You need some sleep. How about a little Med-x? It will help with the eye and the lip, as well.”

 

“You won’t leave me?” So much pain and fear in those words. He didn’t need a link to read it.

 

“No. Of course not. I’ll be right here, watching over you.”

 

She nodded, and wasn’t Deacon on the spot? He’d already pressed a syringe into Danse’s open hand, silent as ever. The way Deacon moved unnerved Danse. He was a soldier, all frontal assault and strength, were Deacon was a spy, all subterfuge and tricks.

 

Danse injected the dose, enough that she’d fall asleep fast.

 

Less than a minute later, she’d nearly fallen asleep. The shaking had gotten worse, her whole body trembling against him, like it might vibrate apart. He wanted to fix this, he wanted his touch to ease her. But he couldn’t, so he tightened his grip on her side, his fingers touching skin as her shirt rode up. Even her skin felt chilled.

 

The couch dipped as Deacon sat on Haylen’s other side. She didn’t stir, only pressing closer to Danse, like she could crawl into his skin if she tried. The Med-x had worked well enough that while she wasn’t out, she was calm enough to not notice Deacon’s presence.

 

Danse almost jerked away when Deacon’s long, thin fingers touched his, sliding between them, so he touched Haylen’s side between Danse’s fingers.

 

The moment the contact occurred, Haylen’s breath shuddered out. Quite something that touch was, the way it instantly calmed her, easing the shaking, the tension.

 

And as strange as it felt, Danse understood the reason for the touch. If Deacon had touched her directly, she’d have bolted. Like this though? Danse and Haylen could almost pretend it was just the two of them, like they were mates, like all this had never happened. It eased Haylen’s pain and helped some strange part of them both.

 

Leave it to the spy to know how to read people.

 

Deacon’s thumb rubbed, brushing both Haylen’s side and Danse’s hand. He wanted to push the intimate touch off, but the way Haylen curled in closer, Danse remained still. He wouldn’t bother her just because he was uncomfortable. She needed sleep and she needed rest. He could suffer through this.

 

His gaze went over Haylen’s head to watch Deacon, who stared down at the point of contact between them three of them, eyebrows pulled together, before he released a sigh and leaned back, staring at the far wall.

 

To anyone watching, it would look like Deacon paid no mind to Danse or Haylen, an observer, like he always was. He appeared unaffected by the contact, like nothing that happened in the room mattered to him at all.

 

But the gentle touch of his thumb said differently.

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

Haylen woke to the clatter of metal. She jerked upright, already moving away from the sound. Nate had never been a man given to showy displays. He’d opted to move in silence, to never strike until he was sure he could land a hit, but that didn’t calm her nerves. Nothing seemed to.

 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Danse’s voice had her sucking in a breath. Just Danse, she was safe. “I wanted to make you something to eat, but we both know I’m not a great cook.” He knelt on the ground near the door, a pan in his hand, a mess of utensils on the ground that must have dropped, making the noise.

 

“You stayed?”

 

He nodded but didn’t look her way, focusing on righting the dropped items. “Of course I did. I told you I wouldn’t leave you.”

 

And wasn’t that the basic truth behind him? He kept to his word. He’d said he wouldn’t leave her and it didn’t matter if the world burned down around him, he never would. He’d never break his word.

 

Haylen moved off the couch and went to sit beside him. He still didn’t look her way, though his shoulders tightened. He knew she’d gotten closer, but he gave her the privacy of feeling unnoticed.

 

“Do you remember when we almost kissed?”

 

He nodded once, a quick jerk of his head that said he remembered, but didn’t like to think about it.

 

“I wish-“

 

“-don’t, Haylen. Just, don’t. I wish a lot of things, but if anyone understands how little wishing means, it’s us. This is where we are and we have to live with that.”

 

She set a hand on his arm, and he flinched. He didn’t pull away, didn’t scuttle backward like she tended to do anymore, but he flinched, a tiny movement that told her exactly how much this hurt him. With everything going on in her head, it was hard to remember how much he hurt with this, too.

 

It was why, no matter how he asked, she refused to tell him what had happened with Nate. He didn’t need to be burdened, didn’t need those ugly truths in his head.

 

And. . . she was afraid. Afraid he’d look at her differently, that he’d see her differently, that he’d never see her again, that he’d only see what had happened.

 

“So, what are we supposed to do?”

 

“I’ll stay with you as long as you need me. I’d never run out on you. I’ll help you get acquainted with Deacon.” He stumbled over the name. “When you two are comfortable, when you don’t need me anymore, I’ll leave the two of you alone. No, don’t look at me like that, it’s the way it has to be. You know that as well as I do. You two are mates. Nothing can change that. You two need each other, and I’ll just be in the way.”

 

“You’d never be in the way. You’re everything to me.”

 

“You say that now, but what about in a few weeks? In a few years? You and Deacon will have sex, because that is what mates do. You two will be bound together. Am I supposed to stand on the sidelines and watch that? And when you two have children, how do I fit into that? No. It’s all right. I think I’ll join up with the Minutemen. Nora has offered me a position there. I’ll still be around, always, if you need me, but you and Deacon are mates, and you will do what mates do because it is how it has to be, and that’s okay.” He nodded, like he’d rehearsed those words over and over again. Maybe he had.

 

She could see him, pacing the room, lips moving as he repeated it to himself.

 

She’d caught him once, back when they’d first met. He’d paced outside their camp, those lips moving, whispering to himself that it wouldn’t be appropriate to pursue her, that she was under his command, that he was her mentor, nothing more.

 

It almost made her smile, until she thought about the future he told her, the one he seemed determined to make happen. He expected her to have sex with Deacon. The idea of having someone crawl on top of her again, it made breathing difficult.

 

She’d had sex plenty of times before Nate. She wasn’t some virgin, someone with no experience. Sex had been a normal part of life that she’d enjoyed, a playful fling with men who caught her attention. However, the person she was before Nate, that carefree woman, she seemed a stranger now. The idea of anyone touching her again terrified her.

 

The fact that the person would be her mate? It only made it worse.

 

Haylen wanted to tell Danse that, but words refused to come out of her throat. They stuck in her chest like food she couldn’t swallow. “I need some air,” was all she could whisper.

 

Danse stood, like he was going to follow her. He’d always do that, always follow her, always help her, even when she’d never deserved it, never deserved him.

 

“No. I just need a minute alone.” She knew her voice came out broken, but she couldn’t help it. She needed air, she needed to get out of these walls.

 

The only thing in her head was the idea of Deacon holding her down.

 

Danse stayed put when Haylen rushed from the room. She took the stairs to the roof, stumbling up them. She fell once, slamming her knee against a step. The sun blinded her for a moment when she finally reached the top.

 

#

 

Deacon felt Haylen coming before he ever saw her. The moment she’d awakened, her emotions had bombarded him again. Sometimes he wondered if she felt anything through their link from him. Maybe he was dead enough inside that nothing showed, or maybe he just hid it all too deep.

 

Hell, he wasn’t even sure what was under there anymore, beneath the lies and the jokes and the costumes.

 

Did she rush up there for him? To find him?

 

Yeah, right.

 

Panic clawed at her, disgust rolling through her. Was she going to throw up again?

 

He stayed put, knowing that coming closer wouldn’t help a bit. To his surprise, Danse didn’t follow her.

 

Haylen’s gaze lifted, as if she’d just sensed he was close. She found him, sitting on the ledge of the building, zeroing in on his position with ease. “Did you know?”

 

“Know what?”

 

“Did you know this would happen? Because you came to see me, you kept staring at me. Did you know you’d become my. . .” she couldn’t say the word, like her throat swallowed it back down.

 

Deacon shook his head. “No. I’m going to guess genetics played a part, telling us both something was there, since you know you felt a connection, too. But, I’ve never had a mate before, I had no idea what it meant. Trust me, I’d let you go if I could.” He turned his gaze away from her, staring out at the horizon. “You’re half-way into that panic attack you’ve got going. Welcome to take a seat and breathe it out if you want. We could shoot crows or screw with Danse’s power armor for a distraction.”

 

“It’s your fault.” She sat down beside him, but left a good five feet between them. She didn’t trust him, that much was clear, but this was progress. Progress toward what, though? What was the endgame here? “I was thinking about having sex with you.”

 

Deacon released a soft laugh. “Yeah, the idea of sex with me sends most women into panic. Not an uncommon reaction, which is probably why I’m not great at finding dates.” He almost cringed at his joke, but hell, the truth was difficult. Real shit was hard. He lived inside his jokes, valued the detachment it gave him, the deniability.

 

The truth was that he didn’t know what he wanted, he didn’t know how things should go. He had no plan, operating in the thin line between want and need, between instinct and thought. All he had was reaction, nothing more.

 

She looked toward him. “What do you want in all of this?”

 

“Mostly? A Deathclaw named Fluffy, but so far Nora’s said no. I think I can talk her into it, or maybe blackmail her. One time she puked on Hancock’s bed, so I think maybe I could use that to talk her into it.” Deacon stretched his legs out then rolled his neck. He hadn’t gotten any real sleep. He’d spent most of the night on that couch. Danse and Haylen had drifted off faster, but Deacon couldn’t settle, couldn’t relax.

 

Maybe it was because he wasn’t used to sleeping with people so close by, because he couldn’t let down his guard enough, or maybe because that light touch had sunk in too deep, like some parasite that devoured him from the inside. So, he’d stayed awake nearly the whole night, his hand on them both. If he could offer her contact during those hours, she might not need it at all during the day. And, some other part of him he didn’t want to acknowledge had simply been content to savor the rare touch.

 

He didn’t like to touch people as a rule. It felt too close, too risky. Glory would always lounge on everyone, throwing her arms around them while she laughed. Not Deacon. He liked to stay on the sides, to observe but not intervene. Distance was safe; distance was better.

 

But he couldn’t remember that rule enough to make him choose distance over the gentle touch.

 

“You lie a lot, don’t you?”

 

“Me? Never. I’m as honest as they come. They call me Mr. Honest where I’m from and have a statue of me from a truth telling contest I was in.”

 

“Tell me one true thing, just one. I want see if you can even manage it.”

 

He released a heavy breath, his gaze remaining in the distance, where it was safest. “I like you, and I wish this hadn’t happened to you. You deserve better than any of this, including me.” The words came out soft and low, and he wasn’t even sure if he’d intended for her to hear them.

 

“Well, look at that. You can tell the truth, even if you are wrong.”

 

#

 

Danse’s fingers gripped the doorway so tight, a bead of blood traced down the wood as he stared at the two of them. They didn’t touch, sitting a few feet apart on the ledge. Their voices drifted toward him but he couldn’t hear the words, couldn’t make it out from the distance.

 

He shouldn’t have followed her up here, but he couldn’t keep himself from doing it. Even though she’d asked for space, he’d seen the panic across her face. It was his fault. He should have known she didn’t need to hear about children, about sex. Even though she hadn’t ever confided in him what Nate had done to her, Nora had said enough for him to guess. He was a fool for not thinking his words through with more care.

 

And now? Now he saw into their future, the one where he’d be left behind. This was the forging of a connection that cut him out, one that formed between the two of them. This was nature doing what nature did, and all he could do was stand on the outskirts of it and watch while the one woman he loved grew closer to another man, to her real mate.

 

With how cozy the two of them looked, maybe he’d have to leave sooner than he’d thought, and the idea of walking away from her killed him.  

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

Danse sat at the table across from Haylen. The day had passed quietly. Haylen had come in from the roof only a few minutes after he’d seen her. She’d said nothing about the exchange, and Danse hadn’t pushed the matter.

 

She then curled up in a chair and read, though with how rarely she turned the page he suspected she was more in her head than the story.

 

The sun had started to dip behind the mountains when Deacon appeared again the way he always did, like he’d always been there.

 

“Evening kids. Come on, on your feet.”

 

Danse tilted his head. “Kids?”

 

“Yes. You are both younger than me making you kids. Let’s go. We’re losing the light.” Deacon clapped his hands then pointed with his thumb over his shoulder toward the door. “Up, up.”

 

Danse sighed but followed the direction. It seemed easier to humor Deacon than suffer through his complaining. Haylen did the same, though when she walked past Deacon she kept a wary distance between them.

 

Outside, Deacon all but skipped ahead. He picked up a glove of some sort and tossed it at Haylen.

 

She caught it, frowning. “What is this?”

 

“Baseball glove. A Diamond City boy like myself knows all about this stuff, trust me darling.” He smiled at her but didn’t linger, like he knew it would upset her. “I heard once that they used to kill the spectators, but Nora told me that and she is a liar. Don’t trust her as far as you can throw her, which means Danse can trust her much further than either of us.”

 

Haylen slid the glove on while Deacon did the same. Danse folded his arms and went up the stairs to keep watch. He didn’t care for Haylen being outside the walls, so rather than play their game, he wanted to ensure her safety.

 

“How does the game work?” Haylen asked the question like she hadn’t fully committed to playing but was willing to hear him out.

 

“We’re going to start easy, besides, we don’t have enough people to play a real game. So we’re just going to toss the ball back and forth. I don’t want to make you feel too bad by showing you how amazing I am at this game.”

 

“You’ve never played this before, have you?” Haylen moved the hand inside the glove like she was trying to get it comfortable.

 

“You wound me!”

 

Her lips tilted up. “You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”

 

“Lies. Pure lies. Now, this is called a ball. A glove ball, and I’m going to throw it to you. I suggest you catch it because it really hurts to get hit by one of these. Not that I’d know.” Deacon returned a smile before throwing the ball.

 

Haylen missed, the ball grazing her glove. She reached down, picked it up, and threw it back.

 

And Deacon missed it, too.

 

Haylen released a soft laugh. “Amazing at it, huh?”

 

“Hey, who is the expert here? Maybe this is exactly how it’s supposed to look.”

 

“Like a drunken brahim?”

 

“Ouch.” Deacon threw the ball back, and this time the ball struck Haylen’s glove before popping out. “You have to close the glove around it.”

 

They went back and forth, neither making a great showing. Danse surveyed the distance enough that he felt confident they weren’t in any real danger, so he leaned over the railing to watch them.

 

Haylen smiled. A real smile, the one he’d missed. After a particularly ugly miss by Deacon, that had him hitting his shoulder against the gate, she actually laughed. She covered her mouth with the glove, like it even surprised her.

 

Damn, he’d missed this side of her. The one that played, that enjoyed life.

 

Deacon stood far enough away she’d relaxed, falling into the easy back and forth of their absurd game. She eased, the rhythm enough to distract her from all the things going in her head.

 

She’d needed this. Why hadn’t Danse considered it?

 

Because he wasn’t someone who played. Games and fun just weren’t something he understood, but he saw in that moment how much she needed it. She needed a way to put aside all the darkness in her head, all the ugliness she’d lived through, and enjoy something small.

 

Like a game of catch.

 

She’d done all right over the day, the shaking not having returned. He suspected she still had some serum left in her system, the only reason why she lasted as long as she did. They’d have to address it again soon, though, and he doubted drugging her was going to be a good ongoing solution.

 

“Think fast, Tin Can.” The words had Danse jerking his gaze toward Deacon just in time to see the ball sail at him.

 

Danse lifted his hand and caught it, though his hand stung.

 

“Oh, nice reflexes.”

 

Haylen pointed her glove toward Danse. “See, that’s how it’s supposed to look!”

 

“Well, sure, if you want to be all athletic and graceful. Come on now, throw it back. You’ve got the catching down, show us what else you can do.”

 

Danse rolled the ball in his hand once before throwing it at Deacon, a hard throw full of more than a little aggression. And, hell, the man caught it with ease, like he hadn’t just done all the acrobatics during the game with Haylen.

 

Deacon grinned before tossing the ball to Haylen, who threw it to Danse. They continued the game for a few more minutes before Deacon held his hand up. “Okay, well, I’m getting old. Time for me to turn in.” He tossed the glove up to Danse. “You kids have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, though that gives you a lot of room.”

 

Danse watched Deacon leave them alone after having drawn Danse into their game.

 

Haylen smiled and held her glove up. “Come on, Danse. Show me what you’ve got.”

 

That smile could almost make Danse not hate the man.

 

Almost.

 

 

#

 

Deacon rolled over on his mattress, groaning from the ache in his shoulder. Yeah, so playing catch wasn’t exactly a skill he was used to, and as it turned out, they were muscles he didn’t normally tax.

 

Still, hearing Haylen laugh? Worth it.

 

And at the end, watching Haylen and Danse just be there, together? Yeah, he’d play the damn game again.

 

At least he’d figured out what she needed. Danse was better with the crying, with all that shit, but Deacon? He was a goofball, and he needed to embrace that. He could offer her fun, something he suspected Danse didn’t have a clue about. They'd keep at it, using games to draw her in, to find a way to function around each other.

 

Haylen had drifted off to sleep hours earlier, having set up in a bedroom on the second floor. Danse had a room on the bottom floor, same as Deacon, probably for the same reason. They wanted to keep a close eye on the doors.

 

Then their link exploded with that same panic he'd felt before. Deacon was on his feet before he could think about it, and up the stairs a few moments later.

 

Nightmare. Had to be.

 

None of that registered, though. All he could think was that his mate was terrified. His body moved on its own, fast and silent, as he slide into the room and went to where she laid on the bed. He set a hand on her shoulder.

 

And pain blossomed in his nose.

 

She’d driven the heel of her palm into his nose.

 

Deacon cupped his face and took a step backward. His voice passed through his fingers. “Just me, darling.”

 

Haylen sucked in a breath, rolling away, eyes wild. Then she spotted the blood that seeped through his hands and she cringed, stumbling away. “Oh, god, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She fell off the bed, scooting backward until she was tucked into a corner. She pulled her knees up against herself.

 

Protect vital organs.

 

Fuck, he knew that stance.

 

He tried for a laugh, pushing back anything but amusement. “Yeah, I never liked my nose either. I keep trying to get them to get it right when I change my face, but they always screw it up.” He sat his ass on the bed, head a little fuzzy.

 

At least he knew Haylen had a hell of a hit when she wanted to. Taught him to underestimate her. He almost pitied anyone who tried to wake her up when she didn’t want to get up.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“Yep. Peachy. Danse teach you that move? Because you both hit like sledgehammers, I have to tell you. You make me feel a little inadequate.”

 

A towel touched his arm, and he looked up to find Haylen standing in front of him, leaning so far a breeze could probably knock her off balance. Her long arm reached out, handing him a towel.

 

“Thanks.” He took it and pressed it against his nose to catch the blood. At least the dizziness was receding a little.

 

“I didn’t mean to hit you.” She sunk down on the floor, closer than the wall, but still with a good distance between them.

 

“I know. Serves me right for running in here.”

 

“I was dreaming.”

 

“I figured as much.”

 

She drug her fingers over the wood floor like the designs fascinated her, but he knew avoidance when he saw it. “You felt it, didn’t you? Across the link?”

 

“No. I just planned on making a 2am run for Fancy Lad Cakes and wanted to ask if you wanted some. Thanks to the broken nose, you don’t get any. No, that’s mean. You can have one, but only one.”

 

She slid closer, slow movements, like she was trying to hide them.

 

Deacon ignored them, rambling as he often did. “Do you think Danse wants any? I imagine he could put away more than his fair share, but I can hardly blame him. You don’t keep up a physique like that without plenty of calories.”

 

“Let me see your nose.”

 

“I already told you, it’s not a very good one. Leave it to Carrington to be terrible at noses. He does good eyebrows, though.”

 

Haylen leaned up on her knees and wrapped her fingers in the towel, pulling it away.

 

Deacon could have fought the grip, but hell, why would he?

 

She leaned in, tense but refusing to back down. Her gaze took in his nose, then her fingers touched the bridge of it. “Not broken, though you’ll bruise. I think you’ll live.”

 

“If you think I’ll live, you don’t know the terrible life choices I tend to make.”

 

She didn’t remove her fingers, brushing them across his cheek, over his jawline. “You remind me of Nate.”

 

Deacon couldn’t hide the wince. He didn’t want any connection between him and that asshole. 

 

“No, I don’t mean like that. You just look a little like him. Nate was all lean muscle, like you. Not like Danse.”

 

“Not all of us can be beefcakes.” He released a soft laugh, but knew it came out panicky. He wanted to lean into her touch, to savor it, but he knew he couldn’t. He wanted to pull her closer, to bury his face in her neck. He wanted to drown in her.

 

She moved closer. “I’m sorry for hitting you. I didn’t mean to.” Her lips brushed his, her hand moving to his thigh.

 

And he almost lost himself in the touch, in the feeling of his mate against him. At least until he caught the tremble in her shoulders. He pushed aside his own want and felt through the link.

 

Yeah, fear. Haylen was terrified.

 

He took a moment to gather his thoughts, to scream at his body to shut up and focus. Nate had said she’d given in, that he’d trained her.

 

She thought he was mad, expected him to be angry over hitting him. She thought he'd lash out, that he'd punish her for the mistake. 

 

Which made this whole thing her attempt to placate him.

 

Fuck.

 

Deacon leaned away from the touch, sliding off the bed in an awkward jump that put some distance between them. “This is a bad idea, and trust me, I know bad ideas. I once let a super mutant cook me dinner.”

 

She stared down at her hands. “You don’t want me to kiss you?”

 

A strained laugh left him throat. “I wouldn’t say that. But, let’s be honest, you aren’t kissing me because you want to. You’re doing it because you think I’m going to haul off and hit you for what happened to my nose, right? Yeah, that’s what I thought. I don’t want you to kiss me because you’re afraid of me, because you’re trying to keep me happy so I don’t hurt you.”

 

“I just thought. . .”

 

“Well, think again. First, I’m not mad at you. It was an accident, not a big deal. Trust me, plenty of people have hit me, it’s a daily occurrence. Secondly, I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to, ever. You ever want to kiss me, well, I guess we’ll awkwardly avoid that bridge when we come to it.” And that would happen about never. Haylen belonged with Danse. Danse had earned her, he could take care of her.

Deacon was just a liar who would do nothing more than ruin her. So kissing? It was the start of a long damned list of things that were never going to happen. 

 

“I want to.”

 

He rubbed his hand over his face. The worst part was, she didn’t seem to even know what the hell she wanted. He could tell, with the way terror warred in her. She still believed he’d retaliate. He frightened her, and she thought the only way to keep him happy was to submit, to give in.

 

Hell. Nate had done a number of her, hadn’t he?

 

“Look, get back into the bed or I’ll go wake up Danse, and you know he’ll worry all night.”

 

She frowned, but crawled into the bed. “I don’t understand you.”

 

“Then count yourself lucky because there isn't much good to know. Now, go to sleep." He left her in the room alone and rested his back against the door.

 

Fuck, this was a disaster.  

 


	6. Chapter 6

Haylen held the coffee between her hands, drawing the steam into her nose. She wanted it to scrape her clean from the inside, to clear it all away.

 

Deacon had said nothing to her, acting like the night before hadn’t happened. He’d passed her a cup of coffee, another to Danse, like they were some strange happy family. A family full of tension and anger and fear, but was that any different than any other family? 

 

How could she have acted like that? It disgusted her, the way she’d fallen over him. She’d kissed him, or tried to, at least until he’d all but jumped away from her.

 

She didn’t even want him.

 

Well, she did. Biology made her crave him, but she didn’t want to want him. She hadn’t felt any desire, nothing but fear. She'd wanted him because it seemed safe, because she was terrified of angering him. 

 

What a coward. 

 

Haylen sighed and followed the link until she found Deacon, sitting on the walkway that lined the fence outside the front of the Police Station. His legs dangled between the railing, sunglasses in place.

 

She rarely saw him without them, like an armor he put on before interacting with the world. It made it harder to read him, but the link helped. Not that she ever caught much of anything through the link, nothing helpful. He was good at hiding what he felt. 

 

Haylen sat beside him, closer than before. She held the cup out. “Want some?”

 

“Thanks, but I already had mine. You taking in the sights?”

 

“No. I came to find you.”

 

“Oh yeah? And why would you do that?”

 

Haylen took one deep breath, then spoke fast before she lost her nerve or he interrupted her. “I’m sorry about last night. I know I made you uncomfortable and I didn’t mean to. I just, I couldn’t think straight. I saw the blood, and I lost it. I know you could have taken advantage of it, but you didn’t, and I just wanted to say thank you.” She stared down into her cup of coffee.

 

“We all have a hard time occasionally. Nothing to stress about.”

 

“I didn’t tell Danse about it.”

 

“Hey, you won’t hear me scold you for lying. I am curious why you don’t talk to him. He’s got a stick up his ass most of his time, but he does care about you.”

 

Haylen placed the coffee down between them, then set her arms on the railing, mimicking his stance. “He’s too complicated. He wants to know too much.”

 

“So? I hear talking about things is good for people.”

 

She gave him a sidelong glance. “Coming from someone who lies all the time?”

 

“Yep. I give great advice, but I never said I followed it. Danse wants to know because he wants to help you. Maybe you should think about talking to him. Do it like a band aid, nice and slow.”

 

“You’re supposed to rip band aids off fast.”

 

Deacon gasped and put a hand over his arm. “That would rip off my manly arm hair. I don’t think so.”

 

Haylen reached over and pushed his arm, a playful touch that she ended fast.

 

“So, come on. Why won’t you talk to him?”

 

“I almost kissed Danse just before I felt the bond with Nate. I thought I’d bonded with Danse. Then Nate showed up and it all went to hell. How can I tell Danse what happened? He already blames himself.” Haylen scratched her thigh. “He can’t know, not ever.”

 

“Shit like that poisons you. You gotta let it out or it’ll never heal. Sort of like a knife wound, it won’t heal while the knife is still there.”

 

Haylen’s nails dug into her skin harder, and it stung, but she couldn’t stop. The bite helped her brain move forward. “I don’t deserve Danse. Maybe I did, before, but not now. He deserves someone so much better than me, someone who hasn’t been broken.”

 

Deacon’s hand closed over hers, stopping her scratching. Blood leaked through her pajama bottoms from the wounds she’d inflicted in her anxiety.

 

“You’re not broken. Well, no more than the rest of us.” He didn’t remove the touch, his thumb stroking her hand in a way that was familiar, but she couldn’t place.

 

“Yeah, I really am. Nate did that. He always said he could never break Nora, that she was too strong, but he broke me.”

 

“Let me let you in on a secret, darling. Nora is as broken as the rest of us.”

 

She stared down at where he held her hand. “Nora’s strong. I’m not. It was easier to give in, to try and be whatever Nate wanted. Nora would never have given in.”

 

Deacon squeezed softly. “Nate was a piece of work, wasn’t he? A pity he can’t be killed more than once. Maybe I’ll go to the memory den and make an evening of reliving it, huh? Bring some beer, some snacks.”

 

“When will things every be normal again?”

 

“Hopefully never. Normal is boring.”

 

“What do I do now?”

 

Deacon lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Go on and find Danse, huh? Maybe try for that kiss? It’ll make tin can’s day.”

 

Haylen pulled away, their fingers pulling apart slow, like neither really wanted to let go.

 

#

 

Deacon picked up her forgotten coffee and sipped it.

 

Just him and coffee left behind, things no one wanted. 

 

#

 

Danse stood by the weapon work bench, working on his rifle. Soft footsteps had him turning, but before he had the chance to brace himself, Haylen ran into him.

 

She caught him behind the neck and pulled him down, pressing her lips against his. The kiss didn’t last long, only a few moments, before she pulled away and rested her forehead against his chest.

 

“What was that for?” Damn, had his voice always been so rough?

 

“I wanted to kiss you before, but everything else got in the way. I realized, I don’t want things to get in the way anymore.”

 

Danse slowly slid an arm around Haylen, pulling her tighter against his chest. He knew he should set her away, should push her toward Deacon, but damn, he couldn’t. It would take a man a lot stronger than him to make her leave, to deny himself this.

 

“What made you think about that?”

 

Haylen snuggled in closer. “Deacon. He talked to me, and while I think most of what he says are lies, every once in a while, he gets something right.”

 

Danse kissed the top of her head before letting her go. As much as he enjoyed the feeling, he knew this couldn’t go any further. Even if Deacon wasn’t a problem, with her past, they couldn’t rush anything. “I found you another book. Why don’t you go get it started? I’ll come get you when it’s time for lunch.”

 

She pressed a kiss to his chest before heading up the stairs.

 

Outside, Deacon sat on the walkway, staring out at the city, coffee in his hand.

 

Danse walked up to him, leaning against the railing beside him. “Your coffee’s cold.”

 

Deacon took another drink of it. “Yep. Happens when things get forgotten.”

 

“What did you say to Haylen?”

 

“Nothing much.”

 

“Whatever you said sent her inside to me.”

 

“Did she kiss you? Because that’s sort of what I was after.”

 

“You wanted her to kiss me? Why?”

 

Deacon set the coffee down and shrugged. “Hey, you wouldn’t let me kiss you. I had to live vicariously through her. It’s the closest I’ll ever get.”

 

Danse frowned and tried to read the man beside him, but damn, he could never get a read on him. It was like Deacon himself didn’t know what he thought, what he felt. “Come on, let’s figure this out.”

 

“There’s nothing to figure out. I’m not trying to come between you two.”

 

“What is there to come between? You two are mates, she and I aren’t.”

 

“So? You two have something I don’t ever see, something real. Fate may have a fucked-up sense of humor that saddled her with me as a mate, but that doesn’t erase what you two have, doesn’t change it.”

 

“So you’re just going to hang around us and, what? Take a spare bedroom?”

 

“I’m partial to curling up at the foot of the bed, personally, like a pet.”

 

Danse laughed softly at the imagine that gave him. “Be honest. You can’t tell me you aren’t attracted to her. Even without the bond, you were attracted. Now? With it? Well, I think that’s pretty obvious.”

 

“I don’t really do honesty. It’s not my thing.”

 

“Well, try for the poor fool who doesn’t have a mate.”

 

He sighed, like he wanted to say no but pity had him speaking. “Yeah, I’m attracted to her. No, please don’t punch me again. It’s too rough for my taste. Anyone would be attracted to her, but I’d never act on it, okay? She doesn’t want me. Even without what happened with Nate, she wouldn’t want someone like me. So, yeah, I’m attracted to her, but it doesn’t matter.”

 

Danse crossed his arms, staring out at the same spot as Deacon. He shouldn’t speak. He should let it go.

 

But that part of him that was still decent couldn’t.

 

“You’re wrong.”

 

Deacon cocked up an eyebrow over the edge of the sunglasses. “Oh yeah?”

 

“Yeah. I’ve known Haylen a long time, and she wants you, too. God knows I hate it, but she does.”

 

“Well, that makes us a fucked up little family, doesn’t it?”

 

“What are we supposed to do?”

 

Deacon elbowed him softly. “Why don’t we just cut Haylen out of the deal and run off together? Oh, come on, don’t look at me like that. Fine, I’ll keep my hands off everyone. I’ll just drink my cold coffee on the walkway by myself.”

 

Danse shook his head and squeezed Deacon’s shoulder once before leaving him.

 

Hell, if it wasn’t for all the bull between them, he might even be able to like Deacon. If he toned down the lying. And the jokes. And stopped calling him Tin Can.

 

Okay, fine, not even then.

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

Haylen hesitated outside Danse’s door. Could he hear her heart from this far away? The way it raced and pounded against her ribs.

 

This was a bad idea. She knew it, but couldn’t stop it. Deacon’s words had kept her up, as well as the kiss with Danse. She’d waited so long because she thought something would happen, because she thought they had time, and look where it had gotten them. She'd spent so long regretting that they'd never really tried, that they'd let all that time pass them by, that they'd wasted it. 

 

She opened the door, moving into the room and shutting it behind her.

 

Danse slept in the bed, on his stomach, one arm beneath his head. He had no shirt on, the wide expanse of his back on display for her, a blanket at his waist, covering his legs.

 

He looked nothing like Nate. Danse was a soldier, built for the long, hard days in battle. He trained to keep his body in top shape, and the muscles that covered him showed it. It was that difference that helped. Danse looked different, and he wasn’t her mate. That helped, because the link between she and Deacon frightened her.

 

It also helped that Danse had been her friend long before Nate. He was a tether to the old her, the one before Nate. He made her believe she could get back to that woman, to the one not ruled by fear.

 

Haylen crossed the room and perched on the bed before dragging her fingers down his back, dipping over the muscles which twitched beneath the touch.

 

“Haylen?” Sleep and confusion saturated Danse’s words. His forehead creased as he stared at her. “What are you doing?”

 

Haylen slid further onto the bed, continuing her tough of his back. She moved down his spine, in the valley there, until she reached where the blanket rested at his waist. “I liked that kiss earlier. I should have done it a lot sooner.”

 

A soft groan filled the space as Haylen brushed her fingers over the line of the blanket. Was he wearing anything beneath that blanket? Probably not, if she had to guess. He’d consider it inefficient waste of clean clothing. The idea made her laugh.

 

Danse rolled over and sat up, one hand keeping the blanket in place -so, no, nothing beneath- and his other hand caught hers. “Perhaps this isn’t a good idea.”

 

“Don’t let Nate take this away from me. He stole so much, don’t let him steal this, too.” Haylen whispered the words, one of the few times she’d even mentioned Nate to him.

 

Danse sighed but released her hand. “I’m just worried that this isn’t good for you.”

 

“You’re good for me.” She closed the distance and kissed him.

 

He inhaled, a signal to his surprise, but he didn’t pull away. He stayed still, only letting his eyes drift close.

 

His lips were softer than she’d expected, but just as hesitant as she knew they'd be. She set on hand on his chest, the other sliding over his shoulder, thankful again that his body was so different than Nate’s. This would have never been able to go anywhere if he felt anything like Nate. She wouldn't have been able to keep the two men separate, to remember they weren't they same. 

 

She shoved the thoughts of Nate away, he didn’t deserve to be there, between them. She’d been wanting to kiss Danse since that first day in Recon Gladius, when he’d introduced himself and she’d fallen hard for his all business attitude. 

 

Haylen moved closer until she was almost in his lap, deepening the kiss. She slid her tongue across his bottom lip, begging him to open, to let her in. She wanted to taste him, to lose herself in him.

 

But, Danse, being the practical man he was, would have none of that. He set his hands on her arms and leaned away. “I think that’s enough, don’t you?”

 

“No, not really.”

 

“Well, I'm saying it’s enough.” He kept a grip on the blanket around his waist, and the action drew a blush from Haylen. There was only one thing he could be hiding. “Yes, exactly. Now, maybe you should get back to your own bed.”

 

“I want to sleep in here. I’m tired of sleeping alone. Please, can I stay?” She held her breath, sure he’d kick her out. Danse was level headed, and he wouldn’t understand this.

 

“Why would you want that?”

 

“Because I wake up sometimes and I forget where I am. I feel that bond and I think it’s Nate for a minute. I expect him to walk in. I thought, maybe. . .”

 

“Maybe if you woke up next to me you’d remember that it is all over?”

 

Haylen nodded, gaze on the blanket, not willing to meet his gaze.

 

“Will you ever tell me what happened with him?”

 

She shook her head. “I don’t want you to know, not ever.”

 

“I stay awake sometimes, thinking about it. It kills me that I let it happen. I should have seen it, should have stopped it. I was selfish and too worried about myself to really look, to protect you.”

 

Haylen opened her mouth to say something back, to tell him it wasn’t his fault, that he had nothing to be sorry for, but he kept talking.

 

“If you’re going to stay, then lay down.”

 

A smile spread across her lips at the way he gave in, unhappy with not willing to actually throw her out. She moved beneath the blanket just as he laid down. He tried to give them some space, but she wasn’t no part of that.

 

She slid back in the bed until she was pressed against him, until all his strength became a source of safety. And, sure, his erection pressed against her, through her pajamas, and he shifted to try and break that contact, but she didn’t care. She moved closer, again, until his back hit the wall and he could go no further. 

 

Danse wasn’t Nate. She knew Danse, trusted him as long as the nonsense in her head stayed quiet, had known him and loved him for a long time, and she refused to let Nate poison that.

 

If only she knew how to deal with her. . . mate.

 

 

#  


 

Deacon scrubbed his hands over his face and wondered if any mates had been in this position before, because hell, he didn’t like it.

 

The lust from Haylen’s side of the bond, added with the fact she was in Danse’s room, gave him enough of an idea of what was going on in that room. He pictured Haylen with those sweet hands, leaning over Danse.

 

For such a commanding man, he doubted Danse was into taking charge. He read people well, and he’d bet money on Haylen being on top, her hands flat against Danse’s chest, her hips rising and falling above the man, that smile on her lips from when they’d played catch.

 

Fuck, it was a nice picture. Danse’s large hands would hold her hips, helping her but following her lead. She’d lean down and kiss him, sweet and soft, just like her.

 

The two of them belonged together, really. Anyone with eyes could see that, see the bond between them. Fuck nature and mates, those two deserved this.

 

But, that lust? Yeah, it brought up some wants he’d been trying hard to ignore.

 

Haylen was pretty, a sort of no nonsense thing he liked. Women like Magnolia annoyed him, the ones all dolled up. Women like Nora made him cringe, because he was enough of a killer without trying to pair off with another one like him.

 

He hated him, he wanted someone different.

 

And Haylen was different. She was sweet, strong in a way few people were, able to survive because even if she thought she was broken, he knew nothing could really break her. She was a healer, and after so much death in his life, a healer sounded damn good.

 

Before Deacon could think better of it, his hand had wrapped around his cock.

 

Yeah, he was interested. This specific part of him didn’t lie as well as the rest of him. He gave himself one slow stroke, moaning alone into the darkness.

 

Part of him felt dirty, using the lust Haylen had, the image of her and Danse. That was something special he had no part of, something he deserved no part of. He shouldn’t even be in the same city as what they had, like he’d poison it just be being adjacent. He was a pervert, a voyeur stealing something special he had no right to. 

 

He couldn’t stop, though, not the stroking or the images. Danse would bite his bottom lip, those perfect teeth digging in while he kept himself still for whatever Haylen wanted. Hell, Danse was the sort of man who would give her anything, one of the few with the discipline to do it. Most men would thrust up, would want to take, to own, but not Danse.

 

Deacon sped his hand, twisting one he reached the head of his cock on each stroke.

 

Something between curiosity and confusion drifted over the line, and Deacon froze.

 

Fuck. He’d been so caught up he hadn’t kept a hold of his own emotions.

 

Haylen yanked away from their link, like she’d just realized what was happening on his end of the link.

 

He forced his hand to release himself, each finger prying off individually, before he groaned and rolled over, trying to force it away. Nice job, Deacon, great work there. The first real test of his own control and he’d failed.

 

Danse may be a poor fool without a mate, but right then Deacon was just a mate with a hard on.

 

He groaned and closed his eyes. Yep, things were just swimming along nicely, weren’t they?

 

Fucking great. 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Haylen eyed Deacon from across the room. He’s made himself scarce all morning, and she could hardly blame him for it.

 

After laying there with Danse, she’d sensed something from his side of the link, an uncommon occurrence, so strange she almost didn’t recognize it. Then it sunk in: lust.

 

And given they were the three of them were the only ones there, it could only mean he’d been masturbating. She’d waited for the crushing fear, for the anxiety to hit her, but it didn’t happen. She'd almost felt him moan, lost in the feeling. She’d pulled away, thinning the link as best she could before she did lose her nerve, but she’d found herself more curious than anything else.

 

How did he look? She wanted to see his face, without those damned glasses, lost to passion. She wanted to see him arch off the bed as he stroked himself.

 

His gaze found hers in that moment, lips pressed together.

 

Right, he knew what she was feeling. Haylen turned her head and tried to ignore the heat in her cheeks. It wasn’t fair to lead him on like that, to play games she wasn’t ready to play. Games she might never be ready to play.

 

“I’m going to head out for a bit.” Deacon pulled his rifle over his shoulder.

 

Danse lifted his gaze from his armor. “Where are you going?”

 

“Thinning the ferals that are too close. Won’t take more than a couple hours.”

 

Haylen’s mouth opened before she could stop it. “Can I come?”

 

She didn’t even know she’d say that. It was just, as he started walking toward the door, she hadn’t wanted him to go. They’d spent so little time together, and even if he wanted some sort of strange platonic mate relationship, she needed to get to know him, she needed to know something about him.

 

Both Deacon and Danse froze, like the words had created a sudden tension.

 

Deacon was the first to recover. “Maybe not the best idea.”

 

Danse answered. “I think it’s a good idea. It won’t be very far and you two could use some time on your own. As long as you’re okay with that, Haylen.”

 

Deacon shot Danse a glare that would have withered away most people, but Danse only moved his gaze back down to his work, like it didn’t matter to him.

 

A sigh, but Deacon nodded. “All right. But you need to get dressed. We don’t shoot ferals in our pajamas.”

 

She went up the stairs toward her room, when his voice followed her. “And Haylen? Put some damn shoes on, please.”

 

#

 

Deacon walked beside Haylen, tense and uncomfortable. He knew damned well what Danse was doing. The idiot thought he was going to push Haylen and Deacon together and he’d slunk off like some martyr. Too bad he had no idea how stubborn Deacon was.

 

At least Haylen had dressed. It was the first time he’d seen her in real clothing since he’d seen her in the Police Station that first time. After she’d left there, running from Nate, she’d only worn pajamas and walked barefoot.

 

Her hair was pulled back into a bun, hands stuck into the pockets of her jacket.

 

“I figured you would have worn that ugly orange jumpsuit you Brotherhood type are so fond of.”

 

“Orange isn’t really my color.”

 

“I don’t know about that. With eyes like yours? You’re a fall, for sure.”

 

She laughed, bumping her shoulder against his as they walked.

 

“Why’d you want to come with me? Can’t imagine shooting ferals is that interesting.”

 

“I’ve been stuck inside one cell or another for a few months now. Sure, it’s nicer with Danse and you, but I’m still trapped. Before this all, I was a field scribe, I was out in, well, the field. Getting out sounded nice.”

 

He cast her a sidelong glance. “You’re not the only one who can spot a lie, you know.”

 

“Fine. I want to know you better. We’re stuck together, and I want to get to know you. I want to understand you better.”

 

“You really don’t.”

 

“You keep saying that, but what do you expect? That we’re going to do this for years, where you stop in, touch me for a while, then rush off? That I never know anything about you?” Red crept over her cheeks as the word touch, like it spawned all sorts of things in her head.

 

“Ideally, yeah. That sounds good to me.”

 

“Well, it sounds terrible to me, so get used to dealing with me.”

 

They went up the stairs of an adjacent building, clearing the few ferals along the way. On the roof, he set up near a corner.

 

“Are you really that great a shot?” She sat on the ledge beside his rifle.

 

“I’m pretty good. Not the best, though. MacCready gets that distinction, but the kid has no patience or time to set up shots right. He’d be unstoppable if he learned to plan.”

 

“Plan? Like, strategy?”

 

Deacon set a hand on her arm and pointed to the distance. She didn’t pull away, almost leaning into the touch. That’s why he did it this way, because meaningless brushes of their skin like this would satisfy her need while not trapping her.

 

“The thing with sniping is that planning is everything. It’s what makes the difference between a sniper and a good shot. You need to set it up, find the best position. High ground is ideal, because it gives you a better view, a chance to hit more targets. You want a place with good cover, too, because the longer you can shoot without being found, the better. MacCready’s aim may have me beat, but he’s shit at planning.” He paused at the end. What was he saying? Why was he telling her that?

 

Because he wanted her to think something good about him. He was good at what he did. He might be a terrible person, but he was good at his job. Hell, he was his job. There wasn’t anything else to him anymore, which was probably one reason he felt like going out of his mind now. With the Brotherhood and Institute gone, he didn’t have anything to do.

 

“So this is a good spot?” Her voice coaxed him into nodding and continuing.

 

“Yeah. Gives us a view of the entire college square. That’s what we’re going to clear.”

 

“Why not further?”

 

“Because some ferals are good. They give you a line of defense. People see ferals, they avoid the area. You just have to know how to control them. See those bags on the far end? I leave those there. They have rotten meat in them, and it keeps the ferals close by so they don’t wander too close to our place.”

 

“And we just thin them when we get too many?”

 

“Exactly. Too many makes them restless and they start spreading out. So, I come on up here and pick off a few that have gotten too close. Also, I’m sorry about last night.” He offered the last part as if it were a continuation of the same conversation, like he hadn’t just taken them on a trip into the Glowing Sea of topics.

 

“Last night?”

 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. I’m sorry if I upset you. I, well, I wasn’t really thinking. Blood only being able to power one thing at a time and all that. I should have been more careful.”

 

She said nothing at first, just stared out over the space. “Why can’t I sense more of your emotions? With Nate I could feel everything, every annoyance, everything that bothered him, all of it. I couldn’t ever block it out. With you, sometimes I’m not even sure if you’re there at the other end of the link. It’s quiet.”

 

“Probably because I’m really good at controlling my emotions. Nate didn't strike me as someone who had much control over himself.”

 

“But not last night?”

 

“Hell, even I have my limits.”

 

“What were you thinking about?”

 

Deacon groaned, dropping his head back. “You realize this is a terrible topic, right?”

 

“Complaint noted. Tell me anyway. And remember, I know when you’re lying.”

 

Deacon glared before kneeling in front of his rifle. He picked the first target, a feral standing across the square. A single bullet and it collapsed down. “I felt you through the link, and I knew you were in there with Danse.”

 

“You were thinking about Danse and I?”

 

Another bullet, another dead feral. “Yes.”

 

She said nothing for a moment. “Will you teach me to shoot?”

 

He peered over his shoulder. “I’m sure you know how to shoot. You were Brotherhood, and from what I’ve seen, shooting is pretty much all they do.”

 

“I was a field scribe, meaning I was basically a medic. And I can shoot things up close, I just never learned distance. You’re really good at it.”

 

Deacon tried to hide the way his chest puffed out at the praise. He stood and waved her over. “Come on.”

 

Haylen came over and knelt in the spot he’d been. Her hands naturally found the same grooves his had been in, telling him she was at least comfortable with rifles.

 

Deacon crouched behind her, reaching around her to fix her hold. “Loosen your grip. If you tense up, you’re going to wear yourself out by the first shot, and the more tired your muscles are, the more you’ll move.” He dropped his voice lower. “Is this okay?”

 

She swallowed, but nodded. “I don’t understand how I can want you this bad. I don’t even know you, and after Nate? This is stupid.”

 

He helped her adjust the shot as she looked down the scope. He’d had enough practice he could line it up without the scope, since they weren’t shooting that far. “Biochemical bullshittery. It’s hormones and instinct, parts of our genetic make-up that decided we’d make healthy offspring. We’re all at the mercy of biology.”

 

She squeezed the trigger and dropped a feral. “It was like that with Nate. I wanted to touch him, even though he hurt me. He said it was because I was broken, because I knew that’s how it was supposed to be.”

 

Deacon’s hands tightened for a split second before he loosened them and drew in a deep breath. “You pick up on my lies, why couldn’t you pick up on his? Bet you I’m a much better liar than he was. Look, you’re built to crave your mate, it’s from that passed down part of you that demands you pass on your genes. You can’t help it and it’s nothing to feel bad about.”

 

“Then why are you feeling guilty about last night?”

 

He frowned at the question. “Because you’re not mine. Because I should be able to control this better. I’m not some hormonal youngin’, or someone who just got out of a bad mating. I should be stronger than that.”

 

She leaned back, pressing against his chest. “So should I.”

 

He should step back and end this. He needed to remind her about Danse and send her ass scuttling right back to the tin can because this, this was asking for trouble. This was a mistake of epic proportions that he was watching crash.

 

Instead, he moved her hair off the nape of her neck and pressed a kiss there, following the line over to behind her ear.

 

Fuck, her skin was soft, and warm, and way too tempting. “This is a bad idea,” he whispered.

 

“Very bad.” She leaned further against him, tilting her head to expose more of her neck.

 

He didn’t grab her, didn’t want her to feel trapped. Hell, he’d have done anything to keep this going even as he knew he needed to stop it. Every touch was like a eulogy to a relationship that was going nowhere fast. It all reminded him of what he’d never get.

 

And, yeah, that was the way it needed to be for so many fucking good reasons, but why’d he have to go and see the things he couldn’t have?

 

Something needed to stop him, to give him the strength to pull away and stop this madness before they ended up giving into it and doing something they’d both regret.

 

And then the guttural hiss of a feral behind them broke the trance before it hit his side, knocking him down.

 

Well, answered prayers and all that.

 

 

#

 

Haylen hit the ground, Deacon rolling and using one arm to cover her and keep him between the snapping feral and her. If she wasn’t so startled, she might have been charmed.

 

The sniper rifle wouldn’t do anything, not at this close of range. He’d never get it aimed. Instead, Deacon brought a leg up and kicked the feral back, then grabbed Haylen’s belt.

 

What the hell?

 

She almost laughed when he pulled the pistol she’d tucked there and forgotten about. He swung it around and fired two shots into the feral.

 

It fell to the ground, and neither Deacon nor she moved for a moment.

 

Then he hopped to his feet, tucking her weapon into his belt. He wouldn’t look at her, just went to gathering his things, moving jerky. She tried to sense what he was feeling, reaching across their link like a hesitant touch, but she got nothing.

 

Blood leaked down his arm from what looked like a bite mark on his shoulder, and gouges on his ribs did the same. The feral had gotten a chunk of him.

 

“You’re hurt.”

 

“I’m fine. Let’s get you back.”

 

Haylen moved toward him, and he backed away. They played that game until he either had to stay put or leap off the building, and he was stubborn enough she wasn’t sure what he’d pick. She moved his shirt, surveying the damage to his shoulder. A shallow bite. The gouges over his ribs were worse, but nothing that required stitching.

 

“The wounds aren’t too bad. You’ll want to keep them clean. A stimpack will help, but you won’t suffer much without one. I’ll check again in another day, make sure it’s healing well.”

 

He flinched away from her touch, a strange reversal. Maybe it was the medic in her, but touching him didn’t seem quite so insurmountable anymore.

 

She left her hand on his arm. “What’s the matter with you?”

 

He released an unhappy huff, like a dog that’s forced to lie down. “That should have never happened.”

 

“The feral attack or the other part?”

 

He kicked up an eyebrow. “Either, darling. But you are tempting and distracting and now I remember why I said this wasn't a good idea from the start.”

 

“You don’t think we’re going to end up there eventually? I mean, you’re the one who talked about biological instinct. You really think this isn’t headed here?”

 

Deacon shook his head. “We can’t. You belong with Danse, that’s all there is to it. This thing between us isn’t real, and I can’t offer you anything real. I’ll stay close, provide what you need, but that’s it.”

 

Danse’s name hit her like a cold shower. Danse. She’d been leaning against Deacon, doing the exact thing Danse had said would happened.

 

“Yeah, Danse. So how about the next time you start feeling this pull, and coming up with bad ideas like this, you go ahead and take it out on him, hmm?”

 

“And you’ll just stay in your own room jerking off?”

 

He grinned then winked, like he enjoyed the banter. “Exactly. Just try to ignore it, wouldn’t want to throw off your rhythm again.”

 

She tried to glare at him, but the way he smiled made it hard to hold any real anger. “So, you are attracted to me?”

 

He jammed a finger toward the stairs. “Go. Time to get back.”

 

She walked ahead, the way he’d pointed, bolstered by him being flustered. “You like me.”

 

“Not right now, I don’t.”

 

She cast a grin over his shoulder. “Liar.”

 

He muttered something, and she couldn’t catch it, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t nice.

 


	9. Chapter 9

Danse paced through the main space of the Police Station. He couldn’t help it. They’d been gone for two hours, and he was crawling the walls.

 

It was one of the frustrating parts of not being her mate, he didn’t know if she was okay. Was she safe? Was she hurt? Was she scared?

 

Hell, he didn’t think Deacon would hurt her, but he hadn’t thought that about Nate, either. Clearly his sense of people was off.

 

But, at the same time, what was the other option? They weren’t going far, and they needed time alone. They needed time to get to know each other, to form their own relationship.

 

The door opened, and he took one step before stopping himself.

 

Don’t look needy.

 

Haylen walked in first, and he had to admit, she looked better. She was dressed, happy, and the sun had left a flush over her cheeks that days inside had stolen away.

 

“Everything go okay?”

 

She smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I got to shoot his rifle and I killed a feral with it.”

 

“Good job,” Danse said.

 

When Deacon walked in, Danse felt less calm, what with the blood staining Deacon’s shirt.

 

“Relax, tin can. It’s fine. A feral got a little handsy with me, that’s all. No means no and all that. I’m gonna change and then we have another game to play.” He offered a mocking salute before walking into the room he’d claimed and shutting the door.

 

“Is he okay?”

 

Haylen walked up to him, sliding an arm around his waist. “I don’t know. He’s hard to read.”

 

“You can’t tell with your link?”

 

“No. It’s like he can control all his emotions so well I don’t really get anything. Well, almost nothing.”

 

“Almost?”

 

Haylen’s cheeks flushed as she looked away.

 

“Ah, I see.” His foot kicked against the floor.

 

“Hey, we’re all adults here, right? We can get through these uncomfortable subjects.” She tightened her grip around him, and he could tell she was nervous.

 

Danse kissed the top of her head. “Yeah, we’ll figure it out.”

 

#

 

Deacon held the dice in his hand, readying himself. These games had been a good idea, something that drew Haylen out of her shell and let her connect with them. It created some sort of synergy between the three of them. Catch had gone so well, he’d thought up a few other fun options.

 

So they weren’t in a relationship, they still were some sort of family, and the games helped them bond.

 

Catch had done well to break the ice in a safe way, but given Haylen’s actions on that roof, he suspected they needed something a little more difficult.

 

Not to mention, he’d noticed a slight tremble in her hands. The game would give him the chance to offer some contact before she went to sleep in a non-threatening way.

 

He came out of the room to find Danse and Haylen standing together, Danse’s lips pressed to the top of Haylen’s head.

 

Fucking perfect, those two. How did they get saddle with him?

 

He shook his head and plastered his smile on. “Alright kids, come on, let’s sit on the floor.”

 

“You are not that much older than I am,” Danse said, but started moving toward Deacon.

 

“So you think, but you have no idea how old I am. I’ve had this lovely mug changed often because time takes its toll on us all. Come on now, sit.” Deacon sat cross-legged in the middle of the floor.

 

Danse sat to one side, Haylen on the other, to form a triangle. For a moment, Deacon found breathing hard. It was almost like a real connection there.

 

Haylen frowned. Must have caught the edge of that anxiety. He offered a smile and held up the dice. “All right, this is a getting to know each other game. You roll, the number says what question you answer. Any questions?”

 

“Are you serious?”

 

“I am, tin can. Haylen, why don’t you put your foot out, hmm?”

 

She frowned for a moment before realizing what he was going for. She slid one leg out, toward him. He held her ankle and pulled, once, scooting her forward until he could set the foot in his lap, then kept his hand on the skin of her foot.

 

She chuckled at the motion.

 

“Did you know your feet are freezing? Good luck with that, Danse. I had a girlfriend once who used to stick her feet between my thighs to warm them up. Don’t let her do that or she’ll freeze off parts you’ll miss.” Deacon tossed the dice to Danse before he could argue.

 

Danse pressed his lips together like he didn’t care for the jokes. Hell, he probably didn’t. Too bad for him, he and Haylen could use a little fun in their life. Instead of saying anything, Danse rolled the dice.

 

Deacon grinned. “A four. So, buddy, tell us your favorite food.”

 

He didn’t say anything for a moment, a long moment when Deacon managed to stay silent and not mock the poor Paladin who stumbled over such an easy question.

 

Finally, Danse answered. “I once had an mirelurk omelet that was very good.” He handed the dice to Haylen.

 

She rolled the dice, her foot twisting in his grip as she did so. “Six. What does that mean?”

 

“Tell us a time you were embarrassed.”

 

She groaned, placing her hands behind her to lean back. “I want an easy one like Danse’s!”

 

“Roll a four and you’ll get an easy one. Besides, we both know that even that one was like pulling teeth for him. Come on, make with the answer, and it better be mortifying.”

 

Haylen laughed. “Okay, fine. My first week in the Brotherhood we were playing Truth or Dare. I was dared to kiss the next man who walked into the room. Well, I’d already had a few beers, and I hadn’t met everyone, so when the next man walked through the door I threw my arms around him and pulled him down for a hell of a kiss.”

 

Danse lifted an eyebrow like the story interested him and surprised him. So Danse wasn’t as jealous as he let on? Good to know.

 

“Go on. I can tell by that flush the story isn’t over.”

 

“Well, that was how I met Elder Maxson.”

 

Deacon laughed, a real laugh so hard it caught him off guard. “Hey, you know, I pulled a gun on him once. I mean, probably not like the one he pulled on you after kissing him.”

 

“He didn’t pull a gun on me.”

 

“That was an erection joke, darling. Really, though, it could have been worse. With that scar and all that attitude? Oh yeah, it could have been worse.”

 

Danse hadn’t said anything, eyes roaming over Haylen like he was trying to figure her out. Like hearing it had him thinking about something he hadn’t before.

 

Haylen gave a half-hearted glare at Deacon while she leaned forward and gave him the dice. “Your turn.”

 

Deacon rolled the dice. “One. Tell me about a regret you have. Oh, that’s easy. I once tried to dress up as a woman. Hancock groped me; it was a disaster.”

 

“You’re lying,” Danse said.

 

Haylen chuckled and shook her head. “Sadly, he isn’t.”

 

Deacon winked at Danse, who jerked his gaze away.

 

The game continued, with Deacon making up random questions no matter what number was rolled. If Danse or Haylen noticed, they didn’t say anything, just played along.

 

After an hour or so, Haylen had fallen asleep. She’d laid down, her head on Danse’s thigh, her foot still in Deacon’s lap, his fingers rubbing softly against it. She seemed so peaceful when she slept.

 

“Thank you,” Danse said, voice low to not wake her. “For these games. They seem to be helping her.”

 

“Just her?”

 

“I don’t need your help.” Danse ran his fingers over Haylen’s hair, though with it pulled back he couldn’t go through the strands. “I love her.”

 

“I know. Not the sort of thing you could hide, not even back when I first met you both.”

 

“She won’t talk to me. I want to help her, but she won’t talk to me.”

 

“She’s afraid.”

 

“Of what?”

 

“That you’ll never look at her the same way again. That if she tells you, every single time you look at her, you’ll only see Nate. I’m sure you have a pretty good idea what happened to her.”

 

Danse took a deep breath before nodding. “Nora talked to me a little about she and Nate. I have to assume Haylen was treated likewise.”

 

“She hasn’t told me much, either. Only more than you because she actually cares about you. It’s going to take her some time to heal. She’s doing well, given what happened, but it will take time. She ran the other day because you’d made a comment about sex, and that reminded her of Nate. He raped her, more than once.”

 

Danse’s hand paused on Haylen’s hair, and Deacon half-expected him to rage. His limitless control showed when he resumed the gentle touch. “I assumed that had happened but I wasn’t sure. I don’t know how to help.”

 

“You’re the easy one. I think she does better with you because she knows you, and because you aren’t her mate. No, don’t look at me like that, it wasn’t a jab. That link causes her anxiety, reminds her of Nate. You lack that and it makes you safer.”

 

“How do you see this going? Really, how do you see this working? You seem as if you don’t want me to leave, so what do you imagine will happen?”

 

Deacon stroked his fingers over the edge of her foot, a soft smile when she twitched like it tickled. “You know, if it wasn’t for her past, I wouldn’t be opposed to a situation where we both have a relationship with her.”

 

“You mean share her? That’s not natural.”

 

“Fuck natural. If anyone understands how little nature knows what it is doing, it’s us. Nature made Haylen Nate’s mate, it made me her mate. Clearly, nature is a sadistic asshole and I’m perfectly okay with ignoring it. Look, I wouldn’t want to split you two apart. You two make sense in a world that doesn’t make a lot of sense. So, if Haylen had a different past, I don’t know, I guess I’d be happy for each of us to have our own relationship with her. I’m not a jealous man, especially not about you. But after Nate? Hell, she isn’t ready for one man let alone two.”

 

“So, what does that mean?”

 

“It means that I’m here to help her however I can, but I’m not expecting it to go anywhere else. We’ll navigate this as we go, I guess.”

 

Danse took the dice in his hand and reached over, handing them to Deacon. Their fingers grazed each other, and Danse stared at the connection like he didn’t understand it.

 

Deacon didn’t push. He slid Haylen’s foot from his lap before standing. “Go on, get her to bed. Yours, of course. I know she ended up there last night, so I’m going to guess it’s where she’d want to be tonight.”

 

Danse slid his arms beneath Haylen and stood, lifting her with ease. It reminded Deacon again just how strong Danse was.

 

Before he left, Danse paused. “If she pursues you, I won’t hold a grudge. I want her happy, and if that means you and she go further, that’s okay. Don’t turn her down because of me.”

 

Deacon sighed as he slid the dice into his pocket. He didn’t answer as he left the room, headed for his own room, before he said something he’d regret, something none of them could take back.

 

The emptiness of the room suffocated him for a moment, something funny for a man so used to being on his own. However, sitting in that room with Danse and Haylen made him realize how much he wanted that, how much he wanted to follow Danse into that room and curl into the warmth of the two of them.

 

But that couldn’t happen, for a hell of a lot more reasons, none more than the fact that neither of the other two people were interested in such a thing. Oh, and then there was the whole issue where he was a third wheel, where neither of them actually wanted him at all.

 

Right. A long fucking list.

 

Instead, Deacon stripped down and crawled into his bed alone and tried to ignore the aching in his chest.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

Haylen woke as Danse slid out of the bed, moving slowly so he didn’t wake her. He wore underwear, she noted with some disappointment, then frowned. Where had that thought come from?

 

“Sorry. It’s time for me to get up, but I was trying to let you sleep.”

 

Haylen caught his wrist. She pulled him back so he had to rest his weight on his knee on the bed. “Thank you for letting me sleep in here.”

 

He cleared his throat, an uncomfortable sound. “It was Deacon’s idea.”

 

“He sure has a lot of those.”

 

Danse nodded. “He does. You can go back to sleep, you know. You haven’t gotten a lot of sleep, could probably use it.”

 

She shook her head and pulled him even closer until she could reach his lips. She had less hesitation than she had before, like she finally trusted herself, and him, enough to explore. Danse even returned the kiss, though without much enthusiasm.

 

That was best, though. Enthusiasm made her nervous. There were two things that made her nervous anymore: anger and desire.

 

With Danse desire hadn’t been much of a problem, mostly because she trusted his control. A soft moan fell from his lips and a shudder ran through his body. It gave Haylen more confidence. She drug her fingers over his front, down his wide shoulders, over the muscles of his chest. The pounding of his heart sunk into her fingers and had her lips tilting up as she broke the kiss.

 

Having the ability to excite him made her feel. . . powerful.

 

“Well, that’s a, um, a nice start to the day.”

 

Haylen laughed at the way he stumbled over the words, at the way he fidgeted on the bed like he wasn’t sure what to say or do. In the field, he was so damn confident and competent, something about him being flustered by her had always charmed her.

 

“I was hoping maybe you’d want to go a little further tonight?”

 

“I don’t know, Scribe Haylen.”

 

She grinned and shoved his shoulder. “I’m back to Scribe Haylen now?”

 

Red colored his cheeks. “I’m just not sure it would be wise. Let’s think about it, okay?”

 

She leaned in and drug her tongue across his bottom lip, savoring the way his breath spilled out in a sigh. “Okay.”

 

And there he went, pulling on jeans and shirt, then out of the room so fast she had to laugh. Talk about a retreat.

 

She gazed down at her pajamas, wondering if she should wear them out.

 

But. . . going out with Deacon had helped. It had reminded her that there was a life out there, that there were things beyond those doors, beyond the things in her head.

 

So, she reached into her pack and pulled out a set of clean clothing, civilian because there was no need to dress like Brotherhood when she wasn’t.

 

Finally, she had started to feel like things might end up okay.

 

#

 

Deacon couldn’t help the smile when Danse came rushing out of his room, a blush over his cheeks. That was the face of a very flustered man. He rushed downstairs, where his power armor was.

 

And leave it to Haylen to fluster him. He could imagine poor Maxson with Haylen kissing him, arms wrapped around him, lips tasting of beer. Yeah, even the Elder wouldn’t have kept him wits about him against her.

 

He liked that, those sparks of the person she used to be. She was trouble, that one. Playful, full of joy. It frustrated him all the more what Nate had done to her. How could he have ever done such a thing to someone like her?

 

Haylen emerged next, dressed for once. She’d put on jeans and a white shirt, a lot like him, but her hair was down around her shoulders.

 

He liked it down. It made her look soft. His hands twitched as he imagined running his fingers through the strands, the way they curled at the ends.

 

She stilled when she saw him. “Where’s Danse?”

 

“Power armor. Sleep well?”

 

She moved through the room slowly, watching him, and picked up a can of purified water off the shelf. “Yes, I did.”

 

Deacon leaned against the wall. “Who wouldn’t when curled up to that specimen?” He winced when the movement jarred the wounds on his ribs.

 

Haylen’s gaze locked on his side. “I need to check your side.”

 

“It’s fine.”

 

She walked up to him, grabbing his arm and pulling him to the back supply room, where the medkits were. Her fingers gripped the bottom hem of his shirt after she pushed him so he sat in the chair.

 

“Hey now, darling, let’s slow down. I’m the sort of fella who needs a few drinks in me before I strip.” Deacon tried to bat her hands away, but she ignored the attempt.

 

“Would you shut up already? I was a field scribe for Brotherhood soldiers, trust me, I can deal with surly, uncooperative patients. I have no problem with drugging you and then checking your wound, because I’ve done it before.”

 

Deacon groaned, trying to sound as petulant as he felt. He wanted to argue more, but Haylen had slipped into her medic mode, and nothing would dissuade her.

 

“Better. Now, are you going to take the shirt off or will I need to get the scissors?”

 

He yanked the shirt up and off, balling it up and tossing it onto the table.

 

Haylen leaned down, bringing her face near the wound. “Did you bandage this yourself?”

 

“No, you missed it when a traveling doctor came in last night to take care of it.”

 

“Well aren’t you snarky?” Her fingers peeled off the corner of the bandage until she could pull it fully off. “You know you didn’t clean this very well, right? Stay put, I need to clean it and then rebandage it.”

 

She left him sitting there and turned around, gathering supplies efficiently. It was nice to see her like that, confident. Playful was nice, but it was clear she was a competent medic. She gathered items and placed them on a tray, then set the tray on the table.

 

Haylen knelt beside him and began to clean the area. Deacon watched her work, all concentration, no panic. Maybe it was because she was in a different mode, because she thought only about the work, about the wound and the cleaning. It didn’t seem to give her any room to panic.

 

And it let Deacon watch her hands. They moved in all efficiency, gentle, sure touches that meant far too much to him. He so rarely allowed himself to indulge in touching, in anything like this. 

 

She finished cleaning the wound and secured a new bandage on top.

 

Then she realized where she was, kneeling and very close to him, and went rigid. She took a deep breath, hands still on his side.

 

“Eyes up here.”

 

She jerked her gaze up from his chest.

 

“Better. Thank you for looking at my wound.”

 

Her hand flattened against his skin, thumb rubbing circles on his skin. “I want Danse.”

 

“I know that.”

 

She leaned in and brushed her cheek against his ribs, just to the side of the wound.

 

The touch went straight to Deacon’s crotch. Fuck. Her warm breath poured over his skin, soft and shallow. One of her hands went to his thigh to keep her steady.

 

“Yeah, this is not good. Down the stairs is Danse, why don’t you go try the whole rubbing thing on him.”

 

“You’re warm.” She turned her head and pressed a kiss to his skin.

 

“So are radroaches, doesn’t mean you should cuddle up against ‘em.”

 

When her tongue touched his skin, it was the sign this shit needed to stop. Deacon cupped her chin so she looked at him again. “Remember what we talked about? Hormones and instinct, nothing else. Repeat that back to me.”

 

“Hormones and instinct.”

 

His thumb rubbed against her jaw. He couldn’t help it, allowing himself the small touch while he pushed her away. “That’s right. Nothing more than that.”

 

“I can’t stop thinking about this. What’s wrong with me?”

 

Deacon ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “Nothing’s wrong with you. It’s just going to get worse, though. It’s how it works, darling. Nothing about your past changes what your body is going to want because it’s programmed to want it. You can’t fight nature.” The tip of his thumb dipped past her lips. “So, since you can’t fight it, you have to give in. You just have to give in in the right place, hmm? And by right place, I mean Danse.”

 

“He turns me down.”

 

Deacon groaned before pulling his thumb away. His fingers stroked over her cheek as he pulled away. “I’ll talk to tin can, okay? Now, get out of here before you start thinking and remember what a bad idea this is.”

 

She went to get up, her gaze dropping to his lap, and yep. The way her cheeks flushed said she’d caught the tightness there, the obvious bulge. She stilled, like she was trying to decide if she was going to panic.

 

To try and head it off, Deacon spoke. “Yeah. Exactly. Go on, now.” He flicked his hands to shoo her away.

 

She finally got her feet moving, backing out of the room.

 

And now he had to go talk Danse into having sex with his mate.

 

Lovely.

 

#

 

Danse yanked the wrench, pulling until the bolt gave with a loud groan.

 

“Who knew those muscles would come in handy?”

 

Danse dropped the wrench and turned around to face Deacon. Odd how quickly the man had become a normal fixture of life. Danse expected his jokes, his snark, the way he stealthed around. He'd turned into a part of whatever this was.

 

“What did you need?”

 

“Well, apparently I need to have a sex talk with you.”

 

Danse took a step backward, eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”

 

Deacon hopped onto the workbench. “Have you ever spent much time around mates?”

 

“You’re not leaving, are you?”

 

“Nope. Come sit and talk to Deacon.”

 

So, he wasn’t going to leave. It didn’t really surprise Danse, since Deacon seemed to do the opposite of what anyone wanted.

 

Giving in always seemed easier, so Danse sat in the chair. “No, I haven’t known many mates. Not well, at least.”

 

“You’ve got to give that girl some action.”

 

Danse stood, knocking the chair backward. What the hell?

 

Deacon lifted his hand like he was calming a wild animal. “Whoa, buddy.”

 

“You know what she’s been through. That’s the last thing she needs.”

 

“Your chivalry is biting us all in the ass. She’s been through a lot, and you can’t push her, but you also need to stop pushing her away. Look, mates crave each other, especially at the start. So if you turn her down, she’s got nowhere else to go but me, and none of us need that mess. So do a buddy a favor here and just give her a seeing to, will you? Because I need my honor to stay intact, thank you very much.”

 

Danse drug his hand over his face as the disaster this conversation had become. Sure, he’d thought about her like that plenty. He’d spent a hell of a lot of time thinking about Haylen like that before Nate. Now though, now it felt wrong.

 

“That’s not the face of a man who is planning on sexing up a certain scribe.”

 

“How can I do that after what Nate did? It feels wrong to think about her like that.”

 

Deacon released a noisy sigh. “That’s your head getting in the way, and your head isn’t the part of you she needs. Well, I mean, that is where the tongue is. Look, tell me what you think about her. Come on, it’s just us here.”

 

“She’s competent.”

 

“Oh, really? Competent isn’t what you see.” Deacon jumped off the workbench and walked toward him. “Tell me what you really see.”

 

“She’s pretty.”

 

“What’s pretty? Be specific. Where do your eyes go?” Deacon stopped just in front of Danse, staring at him through his sunglasses. “Because you strike me as a leg man, and Haylen does have some nice ones.”

 

Danse nodded, like he couldn’t help it. She did have nice legs. Long and toned and far too distracting. 

 

“Can’t you just imagine those long legs wrapped around you? Heels digging into the small of your back, thighs against your hips.”

 

“We shouldn't be talking about this.” Danse fidgeted, shifting his weight.

 

Deacon grinned wider, cheeks pressing into the sunglasses, before walking behind Danse, dragging his fingers over Danse’s shoulders. “We should. Because Haylen needs you and your damned thinking is going to screw us all over.” Deacon set his chin on Danse’s shoulder. “Yeah, you want her. Sort of hard to miss that.” Deacon nodded down at the tent in Danse’s pants.

 

Danse wanted to jerk away, to cover himself, but something about the calm way Deacon talked pulled him in, filled his head with the images Deacon said.

 

“How can you say these things?” When had Danse’s voice gotten rough?

 

“Because they’re working. So, what are you going to do?” Deacon's voice was soft, like a whisper, like a secret between the two of them, and it demanded an answer.

 

“I’m not going to turn her down.”

 

Deacon’s breath warmed Danse’s neck, and he almost expected to feel the press of lips there. He even tilted his head, exposing the spot, because he couldn't help it. 

 

They both froze, like they weren’t sure what would happen.

 

Deacon recovered first, pulling back. “Good. Sounds good. Maybe we’ll skip our normal game night and let you two play instead.”

 

Danse said nothing as Deacon sauntered out of the room, leaving him alone and incredibly confused.

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

 

Danse closed the door to his room, to the room that had become his and Haylen’s, and hesitated.

 

Haylen folded her legs and smiled at him, charmed by the way he wasn’t sure. For a man who was all action, he sure got put off course by her a lot. He doubted himself with her and she'd never seen him doubt himself anywhere else. 

 

She patted the bed beside her. “Come sit down. You look like you’re going to fall over.”

 

He did as she said, the mattress dipping beneath him, causing her to roll toward him. “I, well, this is just strange.”

 

“I know. And if you don’t want to, if you don’t want me, you can tell me. I’d never want you to do something you weren’t comfortable with. I’ve been down that road, been made to do things I didn’t want, and I’d never do that to you.” She spoke softly, afraid he might spook, that he might leave. The idea that he didn’t want her hurt. Was it because of Nate? Could he already not get past that?

 

Danse reached out and took her hand in his. “I want you. I have ever since the first time I saw you, when they assigned you to my team. I told myself it couldn’t go anywhere, but I wanted you. Nothing Nate did could change that. I just worry about you, worry that if we move too fast you’ll regret it, or that it will make her feel worse.”

 

And she could understand that. Hell, Haylen would be a liar if she didn’t admit to worrying, too. “I’m not afraid I’ll regret it. I’ve wanted you since that first day, too. I am afraid I’ll mess it up, that everything with Nate broke me and that I’m not good enough for you, that I’ll lose my nerve, or I’ll panic, or you’ll realize how much better you could do than me-“

 

She hadn’t even realized she was crying until Danse wrapped an arm around her, pulling her against him, sliding his thumb over her cheek to wipe away the tear. “None of that. You’re more than good enough for me, always have been.” He pressed his lips to her forehead.

 

That was the touch that reminded Haylen what she wanted. She wanted to be better, she wanted to stop letting Nate steal things from her. She’d given in so many times, she didn’t want to give in this time, didn’t want to let Nate win.

 

She slid over his lap, pushing his shoulders down until he laid flat beneath her. 

 

His hands went to her thighs like he couldn’t help it, but his eyes were still wide. He laid beneath her like a sacrifice, like she could do anything she wanted and he'd let her, no question, no reservation. 

 

She grinned at the look, at the way he stared at her, half want and half fear. She couldn’t find it in herself to be afraid, not when he reminded her more of caught prey than any predator.

 

Her hips slid forward, then back, grinding herself against him and the hardness that said want was winning over fear.

 

Danse tilted his head back, exposing his neck, groaning at the contact. She took the silent invitation and leaned in, pressing kisses to his throat. His warmth sunk into her, solid and strong and always there.

 

She continued to move her hips, savoring the way he held still for her, the way he let her do whatever she wanted, how he gave himself to her. Her hands stayed on his chest as she sat back up to focus on her hips.

 

He stared at her, face full of wonder, like he’d never really expected to see her like this. It made her tear her gaze away. She didn't like the admiration there.

 

Being fully dressed helped. It made this something between them, between Haylen and Danse, not just bodies. Bodies still frightened her. Bodies were disconnected pieces of flesh that could hurt. But right then, Danse wasn’t a body, he was him. He was the man she’d been in love with for years.

 

His hands gripped her thighs, fingers digging in a bit, one of the few signs of how much he wanted this.

 

She couldn’t find any panic or fear, not with how she moved, chasing the orgasm that she wanted, the one that signaled something important. It was a brick in her recovery, a step toward getting back to herself. It was proof that she could get better, that said she could still enjoy her life. It felt important, a step she needed. So she tilted her hips back to drag her clit harder against him.

 

But, through so much clothing, there wasn’t enough contact. It only wound her up, couldn’t actually get her off. She couldn’t seem to get there.

 

Her head dropped in frustration, her hips losing their rhythm, and she wanted to cry. When the contact wasn't enough, her mind started to spin. It wasn't just that she was trying to get off like this, it was everything. It was proof she really was broken, that Nate had ruined her, that she'd never have any of this back. She'd never get better, Nate would always own this part of her. She wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all.

 

Then, through her link, she felt lust. Not just lust, not like the trickle she’d felt on accident. Deacon was too good at his control to allow so much to pass to her unless he’d intended it, unless he’d done it on purpose.

 

Which meant this was his attempt at helping her. He'd felt her frustration and was trying to help. That was Deacon in a nutshell, wasn't it? Always trying to help.

 

That want poured through their link, sinking into her, heating her. Was that how he felt?  He always seemed so unaffected, like their link didn’t really make him feel anything. But this taste? Hell, it frightened her for a moment, the depth to which he wanted her, and he was admitting it not for himself, not to get her to want him, but to help her with Danse.

 

Her fingers curled, nails digging into Danse’s chest, but the man beneath her didn’t seemed to mind. He only groaned in response, a deep sound that rumbled from his chest, from beneath her hands.

 

Using Deacon didn’t sit right, and even with how the lust clouded her mind, she faltered. Could she really do this? After everything Deacon had done, how little he’d asked, could she use their link, use his want, for her own needs? It felt selfish and wrong. She needed to stop this. It was wrong, she was using them both, really.

 

He must have caught that, the way she hesitated, because even more of that feeling, that bottomless want, overtook her. Was there any end to it? Was this just a tiny snapshot of how badly he wanted this? How had he resisted all this time? How had he treated her so gently if this was how he felt?

 

She couldn’t hope to resist the shove of Deacon's want as it mixed with her own, her hips grinding harder against Danse’s erection, eyes closed, sweat sliding down between her shoulder blades.

 

She shuddered when she came, drawing in a gasping breath that she held until her body started to loosen. She draped her weight forward over Danse, the rise and fall of his chest mirroring her own exhaustion.

 

“You okay?” His rough voice startled her.

 

“Yeah. Yes. I am.”

 

“You’re sure? In the middle of it you. . .”

 

It was easier when she didn’t have to look at him, when she didn’t see those damned puppy dog eyes of his.

 

“Right. I kind of lost my confidence there in the middle for a minute.” Should she tell him what happened? Would he be angry? Creeped out? Was it weird?

 

He answered before she had to decide. “Deacon helped, didn’t he?”

 

She nodded but didn’t say anything, didn’t look at him.

 

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “It’s okay. I’m not angry. This is a strange situation, but facing it is the only way we’ll navigate it. Why don’t you go check on him?”

 

She sat up and frowned down at him. “You want me to leave?”

 

“Nothing like that. It’s just, I can tell you want to, and that’s okay. Besides, I need to, um,” his cheeks went red, “well I need to get cleaned up and change clothes.”

 

Her gaze dropped down to his jeans as she got the message he was trying to say without saying it, because Danse wasn’t the sort of man to want to admit, out loud, that he’d come in his pants.

 

She couldn’t help but laugh before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips and crawling off him.

 

#

 

Deacon knew she was there before she knocked. The knocking charmed him, in a strange way, because it felt like they should be a little beyond knocking.

 

He’d already wiped up quickly and pulled on some clothing after his own release. Not that he’d expected her to come see him after, but he’d figured it was a safer bet to be prepared, just in case. He lounged on his bed, book in his lap, trying to look casual and at ease.

 

“Come in,” he said, unable to help the grin in his voice.

 

Haylen slid into the room and shut the door behind her. She didn’t turn back around to face him right away, like she needed to collect herself.

 

Then again, what a weird fucking situation they were in.

 

Deacon decided to break the silence, because he couldn’t help it, because he was exactly the snarky asshole to do it. “Have fun?”

 

She turned, leaning her back against the door. “Why did you do that?”

 

“Because you needed it. Because you were letting your head get in the way and you weren’t going to get there, and that would have made you upset. You were starting to blame yourself, to see yourself as broken, and that was just going to be another drop in the bucket of your self-doubt.”

 

“You can’t read my thoughts; how do you know any of that?”

 

“Because I read people very well. It doesn’t take reading your thoughts to be able to figure it out based on your emotions. You needed this, we all did.”

 

Her teeth worried her bottom lip, her gaze locked on a spot on the floor. “Is that really how you feel? What you sent over the link was. . .” She shuddered, and it took everything he had to stay seated. Even after jerking off once, he was already rising to the occasion when he looked at her, when she shivered like that.

 

He swallowed, a loud gulp. “Yeah, it is. But, don’t worry. I’m not going to do anything about it.”

 

She came forward until she could sit on the edge of the bed, on knee folded beneath her, one foot still on the ground. “You never let on. I never thought. . .”

 

“Hormones and instinct and all that, right? Look, don’t worry about it. Doesn’t matter.”

 

“Can I kiss you?” The question slammed down between them, like a fucking challenge.

 

Deacon closed his eyes for a moment. “No. No, I think that would be a very bad idea. Right up there with white pants and disco.”

 

She moved closer, but the wall gave him nowhere to retreat to. “Please?”

 

“Why? Why the hell would you want that? You have tin can in there who is more than willing to do all the kissing you want.”

 

She moved up until she sat beside his hip on the bed, staring at him. She didn’t answer, only set a hand on his stomach and repeated herself. “Please?”

 

And, fuck, that sweet please? All innocence and trust and foolishness. It undid him, made him want to throw away all the reasons they were wrong and kiss her. He wanted to pull her into his lap and offer her everything, anything, just as long as she took.

 

Sitting in a room alone while your mate is with someone else hurt. It rubbed him raw, made him itchy, like he wanted to kill something. Damn protective instincts. But he’d stayed because it was the right thing to do, and now she had to come in and throw all that to the wind?

 

“You really don’t want this, Haylen. It’s just left over adrenaline. Go work it out of your system with Danse, will you? Even if I thought for a single minute you actually wanted me, we both know that it wouldn’t be the same with me. The bond would scare you shitless and you’d end up running out of here.”

 

“That’s not true.”

 

Only one way to prove that point, wasn’t there? Deacon wrapped a hand around the back of her neck and pulled her forward, against him, into an aggressive kiss. He’d love to say it was aggressive just to prove a point, but hell, that was just how ravenous he was for her. He let go of his control on his lust, let her feel every bit of what he wanted, of how bad he wanted her. What he’d shown her before was a fraction of what was there.

 

And just like he expected, she yanked away.

 

He let her go instantly, staying still even as she stumbled off the bed. She rushed from the room, the stairs groaning as she went upstairs to her own room. So, not to Danse’s room? Fuck.

 

He wanted to apologize, to get her and gather her against his chest and calm her. He wanted to run his fingers through her hair and whisper how sorry he was.

 

But. . . that was the point. He’d done this so she realized what a fucking poor idea it was. She needed a reminder that she didn’t want this, not really, that she didn’t want him.

 

Fuck, if he was honest, they both needed the reminder

 


	12. Chapter 12

 

Danse set food on the table, the first up, as usual. He tended to wake early, a holdover from his days in the Brotherhood. He’d always review supplies, plan for the day, check defenses. Deacon tended to sleep light, breaking it up through the night and day like he couldn't settle. Haylen slept later, still on her schedule from their time at the Police Station before.

 

He didn’t mind, the silence a nice way to start his day. Some time alone to prepare himself for the day.

 

Haylen hadn’t returned to his room the night before. He knew she hadn’t spent long with Deacon, not long enough for anything to have happened between them. The opening and shutting of doors had told him that much.

 

He’d wanted to follow her, to check in with them both, but she knew where he was. He didn’t want to push her or crowd her, especially after what had happened between them.

 

If she needed space, he’d give her space.

 

The front door opened and he reached for his weapon.

 

“Just me,” Nora called. “You know, one of these days we’ll get through a whole meeting without and guns.”

 

Danse set his rifle back down. “Perhaps. I wasn’t aware you’d be coming here.”

 

Gage walked in behind her, the same hulking presence he always was. He followed her like a guard dog, snapping and snarling at anyone too close.

 

How would Gage have dealt with another man touching his mate? Could he have stepped back like Deacon had?

 

That was a pretty obvious no. Gage wasn’t one to share.

 

“Oh, good, breakfast.” Nora sat down at the table like she owned the place, picking up a piece of food and popping it into her mouth.

 

“Well, bless my stars if it isn’t Fixer.” Deacon walked into the room, feigning surprise. “What brings you out our way?”

 

She grinned, kicking a chair out for him. “Wanted to see if the three of you were still alive. Gage and I had a bet going.”

 

“Well, it’s no secret patch-face there doesn’t like me, so I can guess what his bet was on. That means you thought I’d survive? Why, that’s almost sweet.”

 

“Oh, no. See, Gage’s bet was that Danse would kill you, and mine was that Haylen would kill you.”

 

“Harsh. That is just downright cold.” He leaned over the table to grab a piece of food of Nora’s plate, ignoring the food already in front of him.

 

Danse shook his head at the stupidity. Getting anywhere close to Nora was stupid, what with Gage looking ready to take Deacon apart. Not that Deacon noticed, or let on that he noticed.

 

“So, really, what brings you here?”

 

Nora sighed. “I need to steal Danse for a couple days.”

 

Danse stilled. “What for?”

 

“I can’t tell you that. There are things going on I can’t talk about. Things I’m not sure what to with yet. But, what I need Danse for isn’t dangerous and shouldn’t take more than a few days. Three, tops? But, you can’t bring Haylen, so Deacon and her need to stay here.”

 

The idea of leaving Haylen had Danse nearly refusing on principle. Then again, part of him wanted Deacon and Haylen to figure out one another better, and their one attempt, when they’d gone shooting, had seemed to be good for her.

 

Maybe getting out of their way for a few days would help. Well, at least help them.

 

“You want me to drop everything, to leave Haylen, and you won’t even tell me why?”

 

Nora leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “Yeah, I do. I’ve done a lot for you, Danse. I’ve tried to help you and Haylen as much as I can, to keep both of you safe. I think that earns me a little trust. You’re going to want to see this, okay? I promise, this is a trip you’re going to want to make. And when you come back, you can tell Haylen and Deacon all about it.”

 

“I can’t leave her alone so soon.”

 

“I’ll keep an eye on her for you,” Deacon offered, the calm head in the room, always, though he didn’t look at Danse, like he thought that might make it easier. “I’ll make sure she’s all right while you’re away.”

 

“Please, Danse. This is important.”

 

Before Danse would answer, Haylen pipped up from the stairs. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine for a few days. You can’t put your whole life on hold just because I’m screwed up.”

 

Danse crossed the room to Haylen, not caring who else was there, who watched them. He pressed his forehead to hers, an easy move since she was still two steps higher. “You’re not screwed up.”

 

She smiled like he was an idiot, and that hurt. She gave him a soft kiss before pulling back. “You know as well as I do that without Nora, I’d still be with Nate, if I was alive at all. We’re both alive because of her. If she needs you, she needs you. I’ll be fine here, with Deacon.”

 

And, damnit, that name held an edge to it. Had something strained the two of them that Danse didn’t know about? Being on the outside of their link complicated things, made him feel like an outsider.

 

But, she was right. Nora had risked a lot, and it was her actions and those risks that had secured Haylen and him some sort of future. He couldn’t turn her down.

 

“Okay. I’ll go.”

 

Gage was the one to speak up this time. “We’re gonna take the day to rest, take off tomorrow morning. Give you a bit of time to get yourself ready.” Gage’s gaze drifted between Danse and Haylen. “Get your goodbyes in.” And like that wasn’t pretty clear what he was talking about. Gage wasn’t one for subtly.

 

Danse tossed a glare at Gage, but he only smiled back.

 

Nora spoke up. “Hey, D, you think you could take a look at the sights on my rifle? My shots keep hitting to the left. I think I need them aligned better.”

 

“Nice job, Fixer, real subtle. You know, you and your mate are about as good with subtly as I am with the truth.” Deacon got to his feet. “But, sure, let’s go look at your sights.”

 

Haylen didn’t look at Deacon, and neither did Deacon look at Haylen. Yep, there was some tension there. Great, because him leaving when they were having problems was great timing.

 

 

#

 

Hours later, Danse stood outside with Haylen beside him. They’d headed out to the bridge between the police station and the brewery.

 

“Are you going to tell me what’s up with you and Deacon?”

 

“Just a weird situation.”

 

“Are we lying to each other now? It’s been a weird situation from the start, but this tension between you two? It’s new. If you don’t want to tell me, I can respect that, but don’t think I’m not aware of it.”

 

She sighed, sinking down to a sitting position so she could dangle her legs over the edge of the bridge. “I’m sorry. I’m not meaning to lie. Let’s just say he decided to show me exactly how much he wanted me.”

 

Danse’s back straightened. Deacon wouldn’t have-

 

Haylen set her hand on his thigh, breaking the train of thought. “Nothing like that. He did it because he wanted to scare me off, to prove that I wasn’t ready for anything with him, that I probably wouldn’t ever be.”

 

Well, that sounded more like the man Danse was starting to know. Sacrificing what he wanted, and his pride, for her sake. He could see the fool’s logic. Show her too much to scare her off. Hell, it sounded exactly like that stubborn fool.

 

Danse pulled her closer, wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Listen, Deacon said something to me a few nights ago. He said that if you didn’t have the past you have, that he’d have considered sharing you.”

 

Haylen laughed. “Wow, talk about a demeaning way to phrase it. I’m not an object to be shared.”

 

Heat covered the back of his neck. “We didn’t mean it like that. He was trying to say that, if he thought you wanted that, he’d have been willing for both of us to pursue some sort of relationship with you.”

 

She didn’t look at him, but he felt her tense. “And what do you think about that?”

 

“I think that if it were anyone else who suggested it, I’d have punched them.”

 

She cast him a glance and smiled. “Well, to be fair, you did punch him.”

 

“Yeah, I guess I did. My point was that, for whatever reason, Deacon is different. I don’t know what will happen with the three of us, but I know that you need him, and I think he needs you more than he lets on. Hell, I think he needs a lot of things he doesn’t admit to. So, yeah, I could see us trying to make that work.”

 

She yawned, and the action had Danse smiling. She didn’t like to admit when she was tired, but then again, he knew she’d run herself ragged the last few months. He kissed the top of her head. “Why don’t you go get yourself ready for bed. I’ll head back in a few minutes.”

 

“Can I sleep in your room again?”

 

“Yeah, sure.”

 

She slid her hand up his chest as she leaned in, giving him a kiss so sweet it surprised him. She could do that, though, be so damned soft he felt like he couldn’t breathe. She wasn’t a hard woman, someone who snapped and growled and killed things. She was a healer and she was soft to her core. That’s what Nate didn’t get, what he’d never understood, that even though she didn’t retaliate, she could take anything anyone did to her and survive it.

 

She made it because she was soft, because she’d never stop being that same sweet woman, no matter what happened.

 

She broke the kiss, face going shy, before she left.

 

The sound of someone clearing their throat didn’t shock him. He’d gotten better at sensing Deacon around, and he knew the man wouldn’t have them go very far without keeping an eye on him. He was almost as bad as a mother hen.

 

Deacon took the spot Haylen had vacated, close enough that the warmth from his skin sunk into Danse’s arm, a breath away. “I’ve got a question for you.”

 

“You always do.”

 

“Hey, it’s part of my charm. Are you willing to try this thing because you want to, or because you think it’s the only way to keep her?”

 

“This is where we are. Does it really matter how we got here? Does it matter why we’re here?”

 

Deacon reached out and set his hand on Danse’s thigh, a hesitant touch, like he’d pull it back if there was any sign it wasn’t welcomed. “Yeah, it matters to me. If this isn’t what you want, it doesn’t happen. I’m not one for putting people into situations they don’t want, not if I can help it.”

 

Danse stared at the touch. What did he think about it? Deacon seemed to be hinting at more than just totally separate relationships.

 

Danse took one deep breath before answering as truthfully as he could. “I can’t say this is how I imagined things going, that this is how I would have picked them. However, I also can’t say I’m bothered by it. It’s new for me, but I want to try. I want to make it work.”

 

Deacon squeezed his thigh before removing his hand. “If that changes, I expect you to speak up, tin can. Do you understand me?”

 

“Yeah, I understand you. Why don’t you go follow Haylen and work out your issue? I bet she could use a little contact.”

 

Deacon nodded and rose to his feet in a graceful hop. “You know, you two are the most complicated people I’ve ever dealt with.”

 

“And you’re the most difficult man I’ve ever dealt with.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Not a compliment.”

 

Deacon offered a mock salute with two fingers while he walked back toward the police station. “I know.”

 

#

 

 

Haylen jumped when the door opened, even though she knew it was Deacon. She’d developed a strange sense of him, how even when she wasn’t actively looking for him, she knew where he was, and the truth was, he never went too far.

 

“Sorry,” he offered before shutting the door behind him. “I’m used to being sneaky and old habits die hard. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

 

“You didn’t.”

 

He grinned. “Liar.”

 

“Well, guess that’s something we have in common.”

 

Deacon sighed and walked past her, into the room. “I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have done that, shouldn’t have frightened you on purpose.”

 

“Then why did you?”

 

Deacon sat on her bed, bringing his legs up to cross in front of him. Sometimes the way he sat reminded her of a kid. Hell, between the games and the jokes, a lot of things he did didn’t scream maturity. “Because you were pushing for something I wasn’t sure how to deal with. Believe it or not, I’m not a touchy-feeling sort of man. This whole interpersonal relationship is not exactly something I’m used to.”

 

Haylen let out an unlady-like snort. “Oh, you? And here I thought you were all about the sharing. What a shock.”

 

“Funny. Looks like my snark is rubbing off on you. What I meant is that, I don’t want to come between you and Danse. I’ve always been clear about that. You two deserve each other, more so now than ever, after everything that’s happened. I still think you two got screwed, I should have never been here, never been a part of this. But, well, I guess I am now.”

 

She sat on the bed beside him, leaning into the touch when he set his hand on her arm. Funny how she, at times, wouldn’t even realize how much she needed his touch until she got it. “Danse I were talking-“

 

“-I know. I was listening.”

 

“You know, eavesdropping is rude.”

 

“Old habits and all that.”

 

“So what do you think about it?”

 

Deacon took a big breath, like he was trying to stay calm. Still, nothing seemed to float through their link. How did he manage control like that? “I think it’s a bad idea. I think you both deserve a lot better. I think it’s going to come back and bite us all in the ass. Also, I think you two will wise up and realize what a bad fucking idea it is.”

 

“Is that all?”

 

“No. I also think maybe I’m pathetic enough to try even though I know it’s not smart.”

 

Haylen twisted so she could face him. “I don’t think you’re pathetic.”

 

“Yeah, well, you also wanted to kiss me so I don’t exactly trust your judgement.”

 

“I still want to kiss you.”

 

“And I still think you’re nuts.”

 

She was done trying to talk him into it, done trying to let him overthink this. Hell, he’d told her that her head was getting in the way, and that was just as true of him. He put himself down, convinced himself that he wasn’t good enough, pushed her away for no good reason.

 

So Haylen leaned in and brushed her lips against his. He didn’t react like he had the night before, didn’t grab her, didn’t move much. Then again, he’d been trying to scare her that time, and this time he seemed to be trying hard to not scare her.

 

Haylen scooted closer, going up on her knees. She broke the kiss, placing her hands on his shoulders. They had her hesitating. “This would be so much easier if you didn’t feel like Nate.”

 

“Hey, for you, I’ll chunk up.”

 

She laughed. “Your jokes help. Nate wasn’t ever funny.” Her fingertips ran over his collarbones. They stuck out, and she followed the dip above them, even through his shirt.

 

“Well, to be fair, not many people are as funny as I am.” Deacon set one hand on her hip, long fingers slipping beneath the hem of her shirt to keep the skin to skin contact. “Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah.” She let her fingers follow down, over his chest. She’d seen him without his shirt, so she knew what he looked like. He was thin and solid, lean muscles that wrapped around his frame, all hard lines and utility.

 

“Are you going to be okay with Danse being gone? With it just being the two of us? Because, I can see about Ellie coming out and staying with us. I’d ask Glory, but things always blow up when she’s around.”  

 

“She causes problems?”

 

“No, I mean literally, explosions. She’s a handful.”

 

Haylen grinned and pushed at his shoulder. “You worry too much.”

 

“You worry too little. I know you don’t trust me yet, and I can’t blame you. You don’t know me yet. I could understand if you didn’t want to be alone with me for a few days. Won’t hurt my feelings.”

 

She considered it. What would it be like? To see Deacon every day, to spend the time with him, without Danse there. She loved Danse, but he created a barrier. He was someone she could run to when she didn’t want to deal with Deacon, when she was nervous. Could she handle that time alone?

 

“No, I’m okay. I’m not stupid, if you wanted to hurt me, you could have done it already. Maybe it’ll be good for us.”

 

“Or maybe it will be a huge disaster and you’ll run away again.”

 

“Pity for you, I run pretty fast.”

 

Deacon groaned dramatically. “I loathe cardio.”

 

“Better not scare me off, then.” She leaned in to give him another kiss, lingering longer than the last. She could taste cigarettes, which seemed odd because she’d never seen him smoke. She let her tongue touch his bottom lip, savoring the sound he made at the stroke.

 

The door opened, and she jerked backward.

 

#

 

The sight of Haylen leaning forward, lips sliding against Deacon’s, met Danse.

 

He should be angry. He should want to yank Deacon off her, to throw the man against the wall, to pummel him like had that first time he’d caught them together. He didn’t feel that way, though, for some reason.

 

Haylen went scurrying away like she’d been caught.

 

Danse leaned against the doorframe. “Sorry. I guess I should have knocked.”

 

Deacon stood, a grin across his lips. He must have found her shyness just as charming. “No problem. We’re done. You two should get some sleep, anyway.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets, shoulders shrugging.

 

It didn’t take Danse Deacon's level of observational skill to see the way he lingered, a hair slower than he needed to go. Deacon didn’t want to leave. 

 

The way Deacon had set his hand on Danse’s thigh came back to him, made him think about the gentle touch. It had caught him off guard. Even when they'd spoke of Danse sleeping with Haylen, the way Deacon had set his chin on his shoulder, he's been surprised. Still, it was sweet. Almost timid. 

 

When Deacon walked near him, ready to move past him and leave, Danse caught him around the arm to stop him. “Get in the bed, Deacon.”

 

Deacon’s eyebrows drew together. “That’s, well, um.”

 

“Very eloquent. Go on, get in the bed.”

 

Deacon took a step backward. “Where will you sleep?”

 

“I was planning on in the bed.”

 

“Like, together?”

 

“Yeah. All three of us. Afraid?”

 

“No, of course not, it’s just, well.”

 

Danse laughed at the way Deacon stuttered. Somehow, it was nice to fluster him, to throw him off his game. Deacon had always been the one with the answers, the one collected through all this. Hell, he was the one who seemed above it all, like he was just playing the other two. It was nice to see him shuffle about.

 

But, damn, the idea of Deacon heading off to his own room alone? It felt wrong.

 

“Relax, Deacon. I’m not trying to make anything uncomfortable. You’re part of whatever this is, though. Sending you away after you’ve helped Haylen is wrong, it’s using you. If you don’t want to be here, I wouldn’t force you. It’s up to you.”

 

Danse pulled off his shirt and crawled into the bed at the far side. Something about Deacon being flustered helped Danse feel confident for the first time. Or at least it helped him play at confident. Haylen followed suit, snuggling up to him.

 

Deacon stood at the side of the bed, staring at the two of them. “This is not a-“

 

Before Danse could say anything else, Haylen spoke. “Get in the bed, Deacon.”

 

He frowned, but pulled his own shirt off and got into the bed on Haylen’s other side. Even he couldn't argue with Haylen.

 

They laid in silence for a moment, none seeming sure how to respond, what to say.

 

Leave it to Deacon to manage. “You know this is weird guys, right?”

 

Danse laughed and pulled the blanket up. “Just go to sleep. We’ll worry about it tomorrow.”

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

 

Deacon slept well for the first time in he couldn’t even remember when. He slept through the whole night without waking up, without checking doors, without listening for threats. It had been years since that had happened, years since he’d broken up every night with cigarettes or checks.

 

Maybe it had something to do with the way Haylen had thrown an arm over him during the night, her forehead pressed against his back, her little nails biting into him when he dared to move. Her breath spilled over him, between his shoulder blades, soft puffs of warmth that he counted as the sun rose, as the light crept across the floor. Danse had stayed on the other side of Haylen, but he’d roll over at night and the bed would move beneath his weight, and Deacon would grin.

 

Then he’d frown when he reminded himself this was a one-time thing. It wouldn’t last. Don’t get used to it.

 

He could get up, leave them be, but he found himself reluctant to do so. He didn’t want to let this go. When was the last time he’d felt so comfortable? How long would it last?

 

Hell, even he was selfish enough to hold onto it while he could.

 

When Danse had told him to get in the bed, he’d all but frozen, the words the last thing he’d expected. He shouldn’t be there. It should be the two of them, not him.

 

Even if Deacon and Haylen started anything, it was just the result of being mates. It was a purely physical outlet for their link, nothing more. He could keep things like that, shallow and unimportant. He’d help her, ease her, take care of her. It didn’t really need to involve Deacon at all. He didn’t belong between them. And as far as he and Danse? Well, he needed to stay as far away from that disaster as he could.

 

The bed moved, and Haylen tightened her grip like she was afraid he’d get away. She rubbed her cheek against his back.

 

Danse scooted down to the foot of the bed, his hand drifting to Haylen’s hip and offering a tight squeeze. He moved around the bed and stopped in front of Deacon. He hesitated for a moment before he repeated the action, only softer, on Deacon’s hip, like he was afraid to wake him.

 

Danse backed away and left the room, the door shutting behind him with a soft click.

 

Deacon frowned, staring into the darkness.

 

#

 

Danse pulled together his gear, packing it away. They wouldn’t leave for a few more hours, since Nora wasn’t an early riser. She’d assured him the trip would not take long, and that it posed little risk beyond the normal of travel.

 

And between the three of them, travel was hardly any risk at all.

 

“Morning, tin can.” Deacon walked up, shirt back on, pulled together. Look who'd put back on his sunglasses and his armor. 

 

“Will you ever use my name?”

 

He shrugged and went to the stove to start the coffee, his normal routine. “You’re asking someone who never uses names. Want some?”

 

Danse jerked his gaze over his shoulder at the innuendo, but Deacon only held up an empty cup with a grin. “No. Coffee isn’t a suitable breakfast. A body requires more nutrition.”

 

Deacon turned, sitting on the counter. What was it with him and sitting on everything? He refused to use furniture properly, and it annoyed and charmed Danse in equal measures, a bit like everything else about him.

 

“Well, I’d argue, but it’s hard to argue with that.” Deacon pointed a finger toward Danse’s chest before he took a drink of his coffee. “So, you’re heading out today?”

 

Danse leaned against the counter beside where Deacon sat. “Yeah, I am. I don’t like going without knowing where I am going or why, but Nora is correct. I owe her.”

 

“Fixer is good, don’t worry. Traveled with her quite a bit. She’s tough as they come. She’ll keep you safe.” He tossed Danse a wink.

 

“You two seem rather close. Her mate doesn’t care for it or you.”

 

Deacon chuckled, that sound that said the annoyance amused him. He seemed to revel in the annoyance of others. “Hey, not many care for me. Though, to be fair, the first time I met him, I threatened him. Also, she and I ran away together once. Also, I used her as bait for a suicider. Also, I asked if I could watch them have sex. Also-“

 

“-I get it. I supposed I should count myself lucky you haven’t pulled such stunts here.”

 

“Haven’t I? I mean, I did get you into bed last night.”

 

“I almost had to toss you into that bed, in case you’ve already forgotten. So, tell me, why are you resisting this so much?”

 

Deacon took another drink of his coffee. “What can I say? I like to be contrary.”

 

“Yes, you do, but you also like to avoid questions. Haylen and I seem to manage honesty so far.” Danse turned until he faced Deacon, standing close enough Deacon’s knees pressed into the front of his thighs. “But you keep sidestepping questions and using jokes to avoid the real situation.”

 

Deacon straightened his back like he could add some distance between them. “I’m not avoiding anything. Last I checked, I was maneuvering you and her pretty well.”

 

Danse set a hand on the wall behind Deacon, leaning closer. “Yes, you have. Maybe it’s time for someone to maneuver you.”

 

Deacon coughed, an uncomfortable sound, while he fidgeted. Everything in the man said he wanted to bolt, that he wanted to hide beneath a joke that he just couldn’t manage.

 

It was something Danse had started to recognize, how Deacon’s jokes only got worse when he felt uncomfortable. He liked to hide behind his lies and his sunglasses.

 

“Well, yes, tacos, but, maybe pancakes.” He stumbled over his words, like he pulled random ones out of the air.

 

“Good morning.” Nora’s voice had Deacon sucking in a deep, relieved breath.

 

“You were saved by your buddy,” Danse said, voice low.

 

“Told you she was good,” Deacon whispered back before he hopped off the counter when Danse moved back. “Morning, Fixer. Continental breakfast will be served on the veranda at nine.”

 

She stole the coffee from his hand. “I’ll have scrambled eggs, bacon, and pancakes.”

 

They continued to bicker like children, and Danse shook his head. What a strange relationship. Gage came down the stairs next, seeming to have the same opinion as Danse about the two.

 

Gage pressed a kiss to Nora’s cheek before leaving her and Deacon to their games. He walked over to stand beside Danse, who had returned to his packing. “You ready to head out today?”

 

“Yes. I think I’ve packed everything I need. I’ll want to wait until Haylen wakes, though.”

 

“Course. How’s she doing?”

 

Danse sighed, closing the pack. “She won’t talk to me.”

 

Gage nodded toward the door. “Come on, let’s take a walk. Nora and Deacon will be fighting for at least thirty minutes.”

 

Danse followed him, and they walked in silence until they reached the walkway.

 

And wasn’t that damned walkway the place for deep conversation? He shook his head as he and Gage rested their forearms on the railing, staring off into Cambridge.

 

“Alright, just us here. Spill.”

 

Danse rolled his shoulders. Talking to Gage felt easy, somehow. Maybe because if anyone understood where Danse was at, it was him. Gage had been through a lot with Nora, understood what helping a woman with a past like that meant.

 

“I want to help her, but she won’t talk to me. How can I help her if she doesn’t talk to me?”

 

“I get that.”

 

“Did Nora do that?”

 

“Not really, but you gotta remember, she and I didn’t know each other before it happened. Makes it different.”

 

“Shouldn’t that make it all more simple? She and I were friends before this, before him. She should trust me.”

 

Gage laughed softly, one that said he thought Danse was a moron. “Yeah, in case you haven’t realized, woman ain’t that simple. The thing is, she’s afraid.”

 

“Of what?”

 

“Hell, of everything. Of you, of her, of what you’d think of her if you knew. You ain’t stupid, Danse, figure it out.”

 

“So, what do I do?”

 

“You just be there. Don’t push her, and she’ll get there.”

 

Danse rubbed his hand against his face. “Yeah, I guess.”

 

Gage tapped his fingers against the railing. “And what about Deacon? Can’t say I didn’t smile when I saw his black eye before.”

 

“Deacon is fine.”

 

“Fine, huh?” The eyebrow above Gage’s eyepatch lifted. “Didn’t figure you for one to share. Deacon? Sure, that shady son of a bitch would be into some kinky shit, but you? You’re more straight laced than that.”

 

Danse turned around, leaning his back against the railing. “He’s not that bad.”

 

“Yeah, he really is. He’s a fucking-“

 

Before he’d recognized what he’d done, Danse had his hand wrapped around Gage’s throat.

 

They both froze, like neither expected it, like neither knew how to react.

 

Thankfully, Danse moved first, pulling his hand back. “Sorry. Just, don’t talk about him like that. Please.”

 

Gage rubbed his hand against his throat, eyes full of suspicion. “Yeah, sure. No problem, buddy.”

 

 

#

 

Haylen rubbed her palms against her thighs as she stood in front of Danse. He’d gotten back into his power armor, ready to leave.

 

He’d left plenty of times during their time together, on missions far more dangerous than this, so why was this so hard? Why was she so upset?

 

Maybe because this was the first time since everything had happened. It was the first time for her to stand on her own.

 

Well, not on her own. Deacon shuffled his feet behind them, leaning against the wall, watching over them like always. 

 

“I won’t be gone long,” Danse said.

 

“I know.” She forced a fake smile. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

 

Danse set a hand on her hip and pulled her closer. “I’m not worried. You’ll be fine. I will miss you, though.”

 

She smiled, the words sweet. Danse wasn’t one to admit how he felt, so she cherished the few times it happened. She reached up and wrapped her fingers around the neck of his power armor and pulled down.

 

He leaned down, since it wasn’t like she could move power armor on her own. He brushed his lips against hers, a quick goodbye, before taking a step backward. “I’ll be back in a few days.”

 

Danse look up and over Haylen’s shoulder, meeting Deacon’s gaze. Deacon had taken that spot before pushing Haylen forward, trying like always to fix Danse and her.

 

Deacon gave back a wave but came no closer.

 

“He’s being weird,” Haylen said.

 

“To be fair, he is weird. Try not to be too hard on him while I’m gone, would you?”

 

“I thought I was supposed to be the fragile one.”

 

Danse’s lips tilted down as he stole another look at Deacon. “I’m not so sure about that anymore.”

 


	14. Chapter 14

 

“He’ll be fine.” Deacon put his feet up on the table, crossing at the ankle, wanting to ease Haylen. She'd been on edge since Danse had left that morning. 

 

Haylen took a bite of dinner. “I know.”

 

They hadn’t spoken much since Danse had left, mostly just passed each other like roommates. He’d left a new box of books for her in her room. She’d asked him about it, and he’d denied it, of course, because he didn’t like that sweet look on her face that happened.

 

He didn’t like adoration.

 

He used his foot to push her chair. “I think Gage is getting fat.”

 

Haylen snorted, covering her mouth to keep food from spitting out on the table. “He doesn’t have a pound of fat on him.”

 

“No, I think he does. I hugged him once and there were handfuls.”

 

“He’s not fat, and you know it. You just don’t like him.”

 

Deacon shrugged. “Well, we’ll see if Nora likes him after I spread the rumor that he has sex with molerats.”

 

Haylen set her fork down and pushed her plate away. “So what’s the plan for tonight?”

 

“I think it’s adorable you think I have plans.”

 

“If there is one thing you have, it’s plans.”

 

Oh, yeah, he liked her snark. That little spark as she got her confidence back. Still, the idea of being in close contact, of spending time one on one, terrified him. Could he keep her at a distance? Could he remember the plan? Because, damnit, it was harder to remember she wasn’t his, that she couldn’t be his, when it was just them.

 

It felt like real mates. Like. . . maybe he could deserve her, like maybe there could be something there.

 

He needed Danse there, that hulking presence to remind him she wasn't Deacon's.

 

“Are you asking for a game? Normally I save those for when Danse is home.”

 

“Are you just going to ignore me until he comes back?”

 

That sounded like a damned fine idea right about then.

 

“Maybe. I haven’t decided. Might be smarter to just press pause on life until he gets back. You have books, I’ll let you get drunk, won’t tell Dad, it’ll be a great time for you.”

 

“Fine.” She stood, throwing him a glare that was all attitude before walking out. “Don’t worry about me, I won’t bother you anymore.”

 

Deacon let his head drop back as he took a slow breath. Fuck. Yeah, because picking on her was the good choice. That was brilliant. Pick on the poor woman who was just lonely and still recovering from rape and abuse.

 

It was a new high of assholery for Deacon, and that wasn’t an easy high score to beat.

 

And making it worse? Their link showed him exactly what he’d done. Hurt flowed through it, sadness. It scraped across his nerves since he’d done it.

 

He took one more deep breath then headed to his room to come up with some brilliant game to try and smooth things over.

 

#

 

Haylen laid in Danse’s bed. It was still warm under the covers, so she cuddled beneath them, trying to smell him. Grease and storms, that’s what he smelled like.

 

Deacon walked in, the door quiet even though it was just them. “Little early for bed, isn’t it?”

 

“Go away. You don’t want to be here, so just go.” She pulled the pillow tighter against her to hide her shaking hands. If he saw it, pity would have him helping her. She was tired of pity.

 

The bed dipped as he sat on the side of it. “I brought a game.”

 

“I don’t want to play any games.”

 

“I never said it was for you.” He kicked his shoes off and crossed his legs, back to her. “Nope. Nope. Damnit, nope. Finally!” He jerked, hand hitting the bed.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“None of your business. This game is for me.”

 

Haylen couldn’t help it, she sat up and tried to look over his shoulder.

 

He shifted, trying to bock her view, until Haylen placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned up to peer over. “What is that?”

 

“It’s a cunning game of strategic planning called slap jack.”

 

“Can I play?”

 

“No, I’m sorry.” He rolled his shoulder to push off her grip.

 

She pushed his shoulder. “Come on, please?”

 

Damn, he was good. If he’d had come in and apologized, she’d never have spoken to him. However, his playful banter was enough to draw her in.

 

Deacon released a heavy sigh before twisting and scooting so they sat facing each other with a small space between them. He picked up the cards and shuffled them.

 

“So, how do I play?”

 

“We put the cards down, one at a time, and if we put down a jack, you smack your hand down it. Whoever gets their hand down first takes all the cards beneath that. Whenever someone has no more cards, they lose. Also, I’m really sorry about being an asshole earlier.”

 

Haylen laughed as Deacon split the deck and gave her half. “You know your apologies are terrible, right?”

 

“Yeah, I know. You’d think by now I’d be better at them.” He laid down the first card, then she set down the second. They went back and forth.

 

The first jack Haylen got, and Deacon’s hand settled on hers, a gentle touch like he’d made sure not to hit. The game continued, much like every other game he’d played, where he lost on purpose. Round after round, and each Jack he’d repeat the action, a gentle brush of his hand against hers.

 

They traded conversation, little that meant anything. He said nothing about his life, other than outlandish lies. She talked about life before Nate, about joining the brotherhood, about how she’d met Danse.

 

“Oh no, I lost! The horror, the humanity.” Deacon fell backward on the bed, arm going over his face dramatically.

 

“Why do you always lose?”

 

He moved his arm to grin at her. “Because I’m terrible?”

 

Haylen moved up to lie beside him. “No. I bet you could win any of these games you wanted. I have a feeling you don’t play games unless you’re sure you can win.”

 

“Trade secrets, darling. You ready to get some sleep?”

 

“I should.”

 

He went to sit up, but Haylen caught his arm. He frowned, staring at the place she grabbed him. “Yes?”

 

“Stay, please.”

 

“You want me to sleep here? In Danse’s bed? With you?”

 

Her tongue wet her lip, her nerves getting the best of her. “Yes. I don’t like sleeping alone, and Danse isn’t here.”

 

Deacon settled back down beside her, rolling on his side to face her. He reached up and ran his finger through her hair. “This is a very bad idea.”

 

“You’re always saying that.”

 

“Maybe because you’re always coming up with bad ideas.”

 

“Please?” She closed the space and kissed him, a sweet kiss she tried to use to explain to him how much she wanted him to stay, how much she needed him.

 

Deacon returned the kiss after a moment, and she could almost feel the rejection slide away. “Okay. I’ll stay. But don’t think you’re getting me naked; I’m not an easy lay.”

 

 

#

 

Deacon woke to someone touching him, which was strange. He’d had his share of hook ups, but he never slept beside them. It was too dangerous in his line of work to do that. Who knew which one might go ahead and offer him a knife to his ribs as a thank you for a night of mind blowing sex.

 

Not to mention it increased the odds his cover might be found out by any one of them. Sure, Glory was safe, or another railroad agent, but they were almost worse. They knew him, at least some of him.

 

He opened his eyes.

 

Haylen? Her eyes were closed, and her hand gripped his side. She’d tossed a leg over his hip during the night. Who’d have figured her for a cuddler? Well, he supposed he could see that. She was sweet, and even though she could move hesitant as hell, the girl tended to like some form of contact with Danse.

 

Still, any attempt he’d made either night to scoot away had been met with a huff of annoyance before she moved closer.

 

But, she wasn’t just cuddling. Her eyebrows had drawn together, and a tiny gasp leaked through her lips. Her hips rocked forward, sliding her crotch against his thigh.

 

And yes, his cock seemed to wake up interested in this. Too bad for it, it should just go back to bed. Even if anything between them ever happened, sex wasn’t going to be one of those things. It complicated things too much. In the event she and Danse wanted kids, well, they’d find a turkey baster or something.

 

He groaned when she repeated the action.

 

Damn, it would be so easy to let this go. Even asleep, that lust, all her own, crept past their link and into him. He could not do a damned thing, let her rut against his leg.

 

She’d come, easing the tension that ran through her. Yeah, new mates craved this, they wanted to have sex, needed it. Their bodies pushed them for it. She’d be asleep, so maybe she wouldn’t even wake. They could avoid all the awkwardness of the situation.

 

And it was totally not because Deacon was desperate to see her come, because he wanted to see her like that, surrendering in the middle of pleasure.

 

Nope.

 

Had nothing to do with that. This was totally unselfish.

 

Right.

 

Deacon took one deep breath before lifting his knee to give her more contact. The soft moan became a groan, her nails biting into his side more, her leg tightening around him.

 

Even mostly asleep, she moved like he’d imagine, easy and slow and so damned sweet. Her hips slid forward then retreated, seeking, striving. The tension in her cheeks said it wasn’t what she really wanted, but enough for the moment.

 

His hand found her hip without him even thinking about it, like he couldn’t help it, like he couldn’t not touch her.

 

She was so damned close. The way she shivered, the way her breath gasped, they all screamed it. What would it feel like to slid into her when she did that? To kiss her, buried deep inside her, while she moved those hips. To hear those gasps and moans louder when she was awake?

 

His hand tightened without meaning to, and she jerked awake, eyes opening.

 

#

 

Everything crashed in on Haylen at once. Her body on the edge, her breath coming in shallow pants, like she couldn’t draw in enough breath. Between her legs Deacon’s thigh pressed against her, and. . . damn, she was still grinding against him.

 

His hand gripped her hip, and his eyes, one of the rare times he hadn’t put back on his sunglasses yet, were open and guilty. Her nails dug into his side, clutching him.

 

She expected panic to hit her, but it stayed away. Not far, right at the edge of her, but enough that she swallowed once.

 

“Well then,” she said, voice rough and way too sultry.

 

His tongue darted out, wetting his lip, and her gaze locked on it. “Yeah. You planning on panicking?”

 

“I haven’t quite decided, yet.”

 

“Seems like the sort of thing to think through. Feel free, though. The wheezing squeaking thing you do when you panic sometimes is charming. Also, I feel the need to point out, this was not my plan.”

 

“What, me waking up?”

 

“Well, yeah, that too. But specifically, you were the one who started the, well,” he nodded down toward her hips that had stopped, even though she desperately wanted to move them again. “Seemed rude to not let you finish.” He swallowed, and she caught the way tension caused a line in his cheek. Cue the jokes to make the situation easier to deal with.

 

Haylen sighed and tried to pull her leg back. She didn’t need to put him in a position he didn’t want to be in, and he clearly wasn’t comfortable with this.

 

His hand caught her knee, holding her still. “Why stop? If you’re doing this in your sleep, you need it.”

 

“Because I’m not about to grind against you when it’s pretty clear you don’t want to be here. I’m not into using people.”

 

Deacon pressed his thigh up, harder against her. “I’m not asking you to stop, darling. It’s going to be a long few days until Danse is back, and if you’re already wound up, well you probably won’t be very pleasant to me. So, really, you’re doing this as a favor to me, aren’t you?”

 

Haylen’s breath caught at the way his thigh pushed against her. She released her grip on his side, then drug her fingers down his cheek. “I like you without your sunglasses.”

 

His face went blank, then he gripped her hips and shifted her until she’d rolled, her back to him.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Better angle,” he offered, but there was a strain in it. He shifted down a bit, bringing that same leg up between her thighs. His lips pressed against the nape of her neck. “If you need more to get there, I’m pretty sure you know how to manage. You strike me as the sort of woman who doesn’t need her partner to do all the work.”

 

He was right. She’d never been one who was shy about what she wanted in bed. Being shy left people unsatisfied, and before Nate, she’d enjoyed sex too much to accept being left unsatisfied.

 

He used his grip on her hip to help steady her as her hips fell back into a rhythm. His teeth caught her earlobe in a gentle tug. “Go on, darling, I’m sure you know what you need.”

 

Her hand moved almost like he controlled it. She let it drift down her stomach and dip into the front of her pajama bottoms and into her underwear. She jerked once when she touched her clit, the sensation almost too much. Damn, she hadn’t even realized just how turned on she was. She’d almost come in her sleep if this was an indication.

 

“Good girl,” he whispered.

 

 The praise, the way his voice went low, the way she wanted to do everything he told her to, it all ran through her. Her fingers bumped his thigh, which still sat between her legs. It pulled away to give her room as she took over, stroking over her clit in quick, soft strokes.

 

It only took her another moment before her thighs closed around her hand as she came, her needy moan filling the room.

 

Deacon rubbed his thumb against her hip but made no move for more. She expected him to roll her back over, to reach between them and give himself some attention. Even though he controlled his emotions well, she could feel that lust swirling inside him. He kept his hips far enough away she hadn’t bumped into any evidence, but she knew it would be there.

 

When he did nothing else, Haylen reached behind her, cupping his groin.

 

Yeah, hard, just as she expected. She waited a breath for fear, for something. Nothing but curiosity, but the starting of desire, like she hand't quite put that fire out in her yet. 

 

But as quickly as she touched him, he was gone.

 

He darted out of the bed as fast as she’d done in the past. He drug his hand up and over his head, like he’d forgotten he had no hair to run his fingers through. His hand grasped his sunglasses on the nightstand and put them on in quick, uncoordinated motions.

 

Were his hands shaking?

 

Haylen sat up, slow. “Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah. Right. Yes, of course. I’m, um, well, coffee.” He pointed toward the door as he pushed his glasses up his nose again. “I need coffee. Right. Hungry? Probably. I’ll make breakfast.” He turned and rushed out of the room, still stringing random words together.

 

What the hell?

 

#

 

“You really won’t tell me what this is about?” Danse stepped out of his power armor, even though he disliked doing so.

 

It was tactically unwise to be without it when in the middle of enemy territory, and even if he wasn’t Brotherhood anymore, the looks he got from those in the Railroad HQ said they were not friendly.

 

Nora walked backward as she spoke to him. “I can’t, I’m sorry. Believe or not, I don’t run this show. All I can say is that there is someone here who needs to talk to you.”

 

“Why didn’t you have Deacon come if this is where we were headed? This seems like something he’d have an interest in.”

 

Nora sighed, stopping in front of a door. “Yeah, he would, and that was part of the problem. I told you, when you go back, you can tell Haylen and he everything.”

 

A woman walked up, blonde hair and partly shaved head. “I’m going to need your weapon.”

 

Danse dropped his hand to his rifle. “Why would I let myself become unarmed here?”

 

“Because if you don’t, you aren’t getting past that door. My prisoner, my rules. Oh, and there’s the whole fact that your rifle won’t do anything for you here. Not against the agents here, and not against me. Come on, buddy, hand it over.”

 

“I’d listen to Glory if I were you, she’s a little protective over her prisoner.”

 

Danse turned to argue with Nora, but Gage spoke up. “Just do it, Danse. Do you really think we’d make you travel this far just to let you get killed? Fuck, you know I’m too lazy for that shit. I’d have just killed you at the police station.”

 

Danse took one deep breath before handing the rifle to Gage. It was petty, but he damn well didn’t want to hand it off to Glory.

 

Gage caught his arm before he entered the room. “Keep your head straight, huh? There’s a lot at stake here.”

 

Danse frowned at the raider, who still had a bruise on his throat from when Danse had grabbed him. He nodded, a quick jerk to acknowledge the advice, before he walked into the room.

 

In the corner of the small room sat a man Danse would never forget, arms tied behind him, feet bound, but otherwise unharmed.

 

Arthur Maxson.

 


	15. Chapter 15

 

Haylen sat in a chair she’d pulled to the middle of the room, much like she had for the past few hours. Funny how fast time went when she sat like that, studying the room that changed everything.

 

Deacon was around. She could have guessed it, because she knew he’d know when she left, knew he’d follow her, but their link told her the same. Deacon wouldn’t have let her wander around on her own, he was too protective, to suspicious.

 

He hadn’t said anything to her since that morning, just staying outside her line of vision, like a shadow that kept an eye on her but didn’t interact. That hurt her, the distance, even though she knew if caught any pain from her, he’d step in to help. Still, he stayed away, like he didn’t want to be there.

 

What was it with him? Every time she tried to cross that distance between them, he bolted.  

 

Finally, he stepped into the room. She’d bet curiosity got the best of him.

 

If there was one thing Deacon hated, it was not knowing something.

 

“This is where it started,” she said, voice soft.

 

Deacon sat on the floor beside her. “What started?”

 

“Nate.” She nodded at the filthy mattress that still had blood stains on it. “He cleared this building, said it was for us to get to know each other. You know the thing that really bothers me about it? I was excited. I put my hair up, I put on some clothes I thought made me look nice. I was so excited to get to know my mate. I hate this stupid idea that we’d fall in love, that we’d have romance and passion and everything. I was looking forward to that amazing moment when we kissed, when we finally made love. It’s foolish, but it’s what I wanted.”

 

Deacon’s hand lifted, but then he set it back down without touching her. “I’m sorry.”

 

“He made me stay here all night, so the stimpack would have time to work on the damage to my face. I think he knew Danse would never tolerate me being hurt. I couldn’t sleep, so I counted the tiles on the ceiling, over and over again. Of course, the stimpack didn’t do much to really help. It didn’t make it go away.”

 

“Things don’t really go away. We just learn to live with them eventually.”

 

“Maybe we learn from them. I learned that mates aren’t something to be happy about. First everything with Nate, and now you. You won’t want me, don’t want to be my mate. You’d never hurt me, not like Nate did, but it hurts in a different way to know how unhappy you are with whatever this is. I wish you weren’t unhappy. I know what it feels like to be trapped, and I wish I could make you happy.”

 

Deacon rolled to his knees, folding his arms on top of her thighs. “Why do you think I’m unhappy?”

 

She released a snort. “I brought you here so I could be honest, but you can’t manage that, can you? The way you keep pushing me away says it, the way you bolted out of bed this morning says it. You can’t say it’s about Danse, because I know he’s given you his okay for us, so what is it?”

 

He rubbed his cheek against her knee, the action shifting his sunglasses. “I’m not. . .” He stopped, took a deep breath, then tried again. “I haven’t had a real relationship in a long time. My last real one didn’t end well, to put it mildly, and my life since hasn’t given itself to one.”

 

“You don’t leap out of bed from a simple touch just because you’re out of practice.”

 

He sighed, but repeated the action on her other knee, rubbing his cheek against it, nuzzling her while he stayed on his knees. “I don’t know how to do this, how to be real. Real is what you and Danse have. It’s amazing and perfect and I shouldn’t be anywhere near it. I am not a good man. I’ve done terrible things in my life, some because I thought they were worth doing, some because I couldn’t help it, some because I’m a coward. It doesn’t matter why I did them, I did them. I never deserved a mate, never expected to have one, never wanted one. Then I end up being the person to screw over you and Danse, two people who deserve some fucking happiness in this world. Hell, I considered just ending it to free you, but if I’ve learned one thing, it’s that mates are a crapshoot. I’d never saddle you with someone who might hurt you again, so I’m stuck here, in the middle of something I have no business even being close to.”

 

Haylen frowned down at him, at the way he wouldn’t meet her gaze. She set her hand on his cheek, letting her thumb rub below his eye, below the line of his sunglasses. Strange to realize this man she had feared so much was so damned broken.

 

Just like her, really.

 

He leaned into the touch, even as his shoulder bunched with want to pull away.

 

“Will you kiss me?”

 

He lifted his gaze to hers. “I just told you I’m not a good man and you want me to kiss you?”

 

She slid her fingers behind his neck, pulling until he straightened his back so he was up on his knees, bringing him close to her face. “Yeah, I do. Any man who questions if he’s good or not must have some goodness in him. Nate was as bad as they came, and he never worried about it. So, come on. This is where it started with him, this is where it all went wrong with him. Maybe we can make it where things started over for us? Maybe it can be the start of something good, instead.”

 

His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip, a nervous habit that caught her attention. Haylen leaned in to capture his tongue, just a soft lick against his. He returned the kiss, finally seemed to let go, even if just for a moment. His hand clutched the back of her neck, the other hand on her thigh, and he opened for her, so she could taste him, so she could savor him.

 

He'd go backward, people always did. Hell, she’d end up going backward, too. He was recovering from his own past, and that never was a straight line. At least she knew what she was up against, at least some of it.

 

Still, in that moment, he was finally there. He wasn’t holding back, wasn’t keeping her away. He kissed her like couldn’t breathe another moment without it.

 

When he finally pulled back, looking more disheveled than she’d seen before, he grinned. “Better?”

 

“Much.”

 

“Good. Now, let’s get out of here, huh?”

 

 

#

 

 

Danse took a deep breath. He’d never seen Maxson look so. . . defeated.

 

At least, that’s how it seemed, until the Elder lifted his gaze and his eyes showed nothing but annoyance. “Hello, Paladin Danse.”

 

“I think it is just Danse, now. What are you doing here? My understanding was that you, and all your men, had left the Commonwealth just before Nora blew up the Prydwen.”

 

“I did leave.” He didn’t mention the Prydwen, though his jaw twitched at the reminder.

 

“So why did you return? And why am I here?”

 

“He refused to talk until he spoke to you.” Glory leaned her shoulder against the doorframe. “Got to admit, I’m curious what was so important. Almost though it might be love or some bullshit like that.”

 

Maxson glared at her, some strange spark between the two. “I said I wished to speak to him in private. That means without you here. I am sure you can show yourself out. It isn’t like I can do it for you.” He jerked at his binds.

 

Glory walked over and crouched down in front of Maxson, cupping his chin in her hand. “Don’t forget who is in charge, hmm? I caught you, and you’re alive only because I didn’t kill you.”

 

“You couldn’t kill me, remember?”

 

“We all have lapses in judgement. Don’t make me regret mine too much.”

 

He pressed his lips together for a moment, before growling out, “please.”

 

She smiled and bopped him on the nose with a finger, like he was a child, before standing up again. “Sure. Go ahead, boys.” Glory stopped beside Danse and leaned in, voice hard. “You do not put your hands on him. I don’t care what he does or says, any marks on him I’ll personally put on you, understood?”

 

“Understood.”

 

“Good.” She smiled again then before leaving Danse and Maxson alone.

 

The door shut behind her, and Maxson’s eyes remained rooted there, like he couldn’t help it. His eyebrows had drawn together, and Danse got the impression Maxson didn’t even notice him there.

 

“We are alone. What did you want?”

 

Maxson tore his gaze from the door to look at Danse. “I’m sorry. I should have seen what Nate was sooner, I shouldn’t have subjected Haylen to that treatment. I was blinded by ambition. This campaign was supposed to solidify my transition to High Elder, and because of that, I made choices that were reprehensible. I’m not asking for forgiveness, I know I don’t deserve that. But, I had to come back.”

 

Danse crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes as he looked for any sign Maxson was lying. He wanted some idea of his plan, of what Maxson was after.

 

But, he’d known Maxson a long time. They were almost friends, in a way. Neither had made friends, but they’d drink a beer together in silence now and then. Maxson had never been one to lie. He’d been impulsive at times, arrogant, stubborn, but not a liar. “If you’re not here for forgiveness, why are you here? I can’t imagine you had a sudden change of heart.”

 

Maxson said nothing at first, his shoulders moving like he was trying to fidget. “Is Haylen alright?”

 

“Nate tormented her, what do you think?”

 

Maxson flinched, tearing his gaze away. “Fair enough. I know that is my fault. It was my duty to protect her, to protect you all. I was so focused on winning that I thought it worth the sacrifice. I let myself not see things clearly because I thought they’d all pay off. I can’t allow her to lose anything else, however. It doesn’t make up for my inaction, but I can’t let anything else be taken from her. I know, of course, about you two. Rhys had sent many reports on the infatuation between the two of you.”

 

“That is none of your business.”

 

“You’re right, it’s not. Perhaps, someday, I could see her? I could apologize to her.”

 

“You don’t care about her, you only care about alleviating your own guilt. I will not allow you to upset her for that.”

 

“Right. I should have expected that. I’m here because the Brotherhood had a tape from the Institute that Nate gave us to decrypt. It was a download of the Institute’s main computer. There was information on it on everything, on all of their projects and plans, information I brought with me, that I gave to the Railroad.”

 

“I’m not here to play games, Arthur. You had no reason for me to come here in order to tell me that.” Danse snapped out the man’s first name like an insult, a reminder that he wasn’t the great Elder Maxson here. “Either tell me what you wanted to say or let me get back.”

 

Maxson met his gaze finally. “You’re a synth, Danse, and the Brotherhood knows about it. They’ve sent someone to kill you.”

 


	16. Chapter 16

 

Danse frowned, staring at the man before him, the man he’d known and respected at one time. How had they ended up here? “You’re wrong. You have to be wrong.”

 

Maxson shook his head. “I wish I was, believe me. We matched the information with your medical files. There is no question. You are on a list of missing synths from the Institute. Your designation was M7-97.”

 

“Even if what you say is true, why would the Brotherhood send men here just to kill one synth? That would make no tactical sense.”

 

“Because you aren’t simply one synth. You have intimate knowledge of the Brotherhood and they don’t want that knowledge to fall into Institute hands. You were a pillar of what Brotherhood could be, and finding out you were a synth was a slap in the face. Also, I think a few are angry, that they feel insulted or embarrassed by being tricked. The Brotherhood runs on a great deal of ego, and your being alive has bruised some.”

 

Danse began to pace. “I did not trick anyone. If this is true, I had no knowledge of it. I would not betray or trick the Brotherhood, they were a family for me.”

 

“I know. You were the closest thing to a friend I had; I would have known if you were betraying us. Even when given cause, you did not strike against us. Since you had not, it meant that, perhaps, the Brotherhood is not entirely correct on the issue.” Maxson’s gaze started on his bound feet, voice softening like even the words felt wrong.

 

“And what about you? The last Maxson is not someone the Brotherhood would just let walk away. How are you here?”

 

“No, they wouldn’t. Which meant I stole a vertibird. Believe it or not, I was a soldier before I was Elder. I am a quite capable soldier.”

 

“Why would you do that? Why risk your position for this?”

 

“Because you were the only friend I had! They wanted to kill you, and even after I argued it, they sent out men anyway. It made me realize that I’ve been walking down a path I thought I should walk, down the path I was expected to walk, but that doesn’t make it the right one. I can’t fix what I’ve done, what I sat by and let happen, but it means I don’t have to keep going down that path, either. I’m not expecting you to forgive me, and if the synth with an attitude and a minigun outside that door decides to kill me, then that’s what happens. At least I can die knowing I did one thing right, for the only person who has ever tried to be my friend.”

 

Danse stopped pacing to look at Maxson, who still stared at his own feet. His words sounded truthful, drenched in pain and regret, but real.

 

Which meant Danse wasn’t who he’d always thought he was. He wasn’t the man he’d built himself up to be, he was nothing but a synth.

 

A machine.

 

#

 

The next morning, Haylen woke wrapped around Deacon. The first night they’d slept together with Danse, she’d done the same thing. While Danse had curled up behind her, a hand on her hip, she’d wrapped herself around Deacon.

 

Maybe it was because she knew Danse wasn’t going anywhere, but she always had this feeling Deacon would slip away. She thought she’d wake up and he’d be gone, so she wrapped herself around him.

 

This morning, Deacon still slept. His glasses sat on the nightstand, and she noted the tiny scar along his jawline. It wasn’t alone. Another set near his ear, another at his temple. She reached up, running her fingers over them.

 

Deacon’s hand snapped up, wrapping around her wrist in a hard grasp as his eyes opened.

 

He looked down at her hand, frowning. “Haylen?” He released her hand. “Sorry.”

 

“What are these from?” She touched the scar near his temple.

 

“Face swaps.”

 

“This isn’t how you’ve always looked?”

 

He shook his head. “No, I haven’t always been this handsome. My line of work meant changing my looks so I could blend in, so people wouldn’t remember me.”

 

“What is your line of work? Danse mentioned something about the Railroad.”

 

“Yeah. I worked with them. I still do, but without the Institute or Brotherhood, there isn’t much to do. Now I just help the random lost synth.”

 

“Why? I never felt about synths the way some of the Brotherhood did, but why would you risk your life for them? Why suffer through face changes?” Her fingers drifted over each old, white scar.

 

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I have a past, like anyone else, one I’ve been trying to make up for. One I’ve spent a long time trying to make up for.”

 

She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his jaw, over the scar. She followed the tiny imperfections, lavishing attention on each one. He winced each time, like the touch hurt, like it burned him to feel her lips against them. “Relax,” she whispered.

 

“Right. Relax. Just like the time when I had to hide in a damn museum with a deathclaw in it.”

 

Her lips quirked up as she swung her leg over his hips to repeat the gentle kisses on the other side of his face. She kept her body up, off his, so she didn’t spook him. “Is that how you see me? As a deathclaw? Also, did you know you ramble when you’re nervous?”

 

“I do not.”

 

She used her hand on his chin to tilt his head and expose his jaw, and drug her tongue over the tiny scar there. “Personally, I like this face.”

 

“You really need to learn to behave yourself, darling. Just wait till Danse gets back, I’m sure he’ll keep you on the straight and narrow.”

 

Haylen scooted up enough to look into his eyes, a playful grin on her face. “Oh, I think he might lay down the law when he gets back.”

 

“Exactly, so why don’t you get off me and try to control those lips of yours?”

 

She leaned in, pressing her forehead against his. “I’d be more worried about yourself, Deacon, because I think he’s going to take you to task, and quick as you are, you’re no match.”

 

“You underestimate me.”

 

She smiled and brushed her lips against his. “Nope, I just learned something important in the Brotherhood.”

 

“And what was that?”

 

“You can’t win a war on two fronts.”

 

#

 

Danse sunk down in the seat outside of the small room. He’d ended the conversation with Maxson, leaving the man bound in the room, when Glory had taken his place. Maxson’s gaze had jerked up to Glory’s when she’d walked in.

 

That was. . . strange.

 

Danse rubbed his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “Is he telling the truth?”

 

Nora and Gage took seats across from him, and it was Gage who spoke first. “Yeah, seems to be. The tape he brought back confirms it.”

 

“So, I am not a person?”

 

Nora reached out, and set a hand on his arm. “You’re a person still. This doesn’t change that.”

 

Danse pulled his arm away before straightening up. “You do not even like me, so I’m not sure why you feel the need to be nice. Let us not pretend, it’s beneath us.”

 

“So we’re just laying our cards out, are we? Fine, how about this for honesty? You ever touch my mate again, and I’ll break your fingers.”

 

Gage set a hand on her arm. “Lay off him. I already told ya, I insulted his love. I deserved it, and it’s no less than I woulda done if he mouthed off about you.”

 

“Why Haylen wants you, I’ll never understand.”

 

Danse flinched at the exchange, at Gage’s comment and Nora’s ignorance of what was meant. “You said there was more at stake. This can’t just be about me. So, explain it to me, what else is this about?”

 

Gage sighed and thumped his knuckles on the table. “Yeah, this is bigger. There was a fucking lot of shit on that tape, all the dirty little secrets of the Institute. Been getting through it for days and there’s still a load of it left.”

 

“And what is the dirty secret that has everyone so riled up? Because the tension here says something important is close.”

 

A courser took a seat at the table. Danse jerked up, but Gage lifted his hand.

 

“This is X6, he’s on our side. X6, Danse.”

 

X6 tilted his head. “Ah, yes, the synth.”

 

Nora smacked X6. “What if we hadn’t told him yet?”

 

“Then he would know now.”

 

Danse laughed and shook his head. The courser had the same no-nonsense attitude he understood. “Come on, out with it, please. I left Haylen alone for days for this, so please, explain.”

 

X6 met Danse’s gaze through dark sunglasses that reminded him of Deacon, a man who hid. “When the Institute made synths, they were able to manipulate them to stop mate bonds from being formed, that kept them sterile. The information Maxson brought back has shown us how, and also how to reverse it.”

 

Danse frowned at the words, as they sunk in. “So, you’ll be able to make it so synths can bond?”

 

“Yes, we will. If we succeed, you may yet find a real mate.”

 

The words sunk in, and Danse worried he might be sick.


	17. Chapter 17

 

The police station had Danse pulling in a deep breath. Funny how the place had become home to him in such a short amount of time. The trip had only take three days, so though the sun had started to dip below the mountains, he’d gotten back before the third night.

 

“You know, I could have made this trip alone.” Danse had made the same comment many times, but X6 usually ignored them.

 

“Perhaps, but Nora and Gage requested I come with you. Who knows how much information the Brotherhood has on you. Their men could have ambushed you on your way.”

 

“And what exactly could you do, synth?”

 

“I can do exactly what coursers excel at. Killing.”

 

Danse shook his head and tried to walk faster, but X6 always stayed just behind him. The courser seemed to have no trouble with stamina, and in the few skirmishes they’d encountered, he’d proven himself time and time again. Still, it chafed to have a babysitter. “How long do you plan to stay?”

 

“I do not know. Perhaps until the threat is eliminated. It might be quicker to go on the offensive, but Nora fears you might be killed before then.”

 

“I doubt she cares.”

 

“You are correct, but she does not wish Haylen to suffer anymore, and your death would cause her great suffering.”

 

“Will you and Deacon kill each other?”

 

“I do not foresee it. I’ve worked with the Railroad since the destruction of the Institute, and they have come to at least tolerate me. I do love a worthy opponent, and Agent Deacon has always proven himself to be that.”

 

And what was there to say after that? Danse allowed the final bit of walking to occur without conversation.

 

Part of him was too worried to deal with the courser anyway. He’d been gone for three days and two nights. What had occurred during that time? Had Haylen and Deacon had sex?

 

That idea didn’t bother him, really, but he was terrified he’d return to find they’d decided he was an unneeded third person. He prepared himself to walk in and see the two of them holding hands and asking him nicely to leave.

 

And he’d leave, because it was right.

 

The door creaked as it opened. Danse stepped out of his power armor, leaving it by the door, close enough he could leave without hassle.

 

Something came flying at him, a body, he realized as he stumbled backward. Haylen had leapt off the top step and damned near taken him to the floor. Her lips pressed against his, desperate kisses, as her arms wrapped around his neck. “Never leave again,” she whispered between the kisses, her legs wrapped around his waist. “I missed you.”

 

Danse broke the kiss and ran his fingers through her hair. “I missed you, too. I was afraid I’d come back and you’d have changed your mind about us.”

 

“Never going to happen.”

 

“Off, Haylen. I want to try that leaping hello thing.”

 

Danse grinned at Deacon’s voice, because damn, he’d missed it, too. “Sorry, Deacon, but I don’t think I can catch you quite as well.”

 

"What use are those muscles if you can't even catch me?"

 

Haylen unwound her legs and set her feet on the floor, like she’d just realized what she’d done. “Sorry.”

 

Danse caught her behind the neck before she could pull away and gave her another kiss. “Don’t be. It was one nice welcome back.”

 

Once she moved back, he and Deacon shared an awkward smile. What did they have? What was the protocol in dealing with this? When Deacon didn’t move forward, Danse let it go.

 

“This is-“

 

“-X6. Nice to see you again.” Deacon’s words made it clear it was not nice.

 

“Agent Deacon. You look better without those silly wigs.”

 

“You look better on the other side of my scope.”

 

X6 tilted his head. “You had me on the other side of your scope and you didn’t pull the trigger?” He clicked his tongue. “Tactically unwise decision.”

 

Deacon pressed his lips together, tinting white, like he didn’t care for being verbally outmatched.

 

“X6 is here to help with protection. There are some concerns we need to discuss. Come on, we’ll sit down for this.”

 

#

 

Haylen didn’t know what to say. Danse was a synth. What was she supposed to do with that? It didn’t change him, did it? He was still who he’d always been to her.

 

Still, the way he spoke, arm on the table, she wasn’t sure how to respond. He seemed shaken.

 

Worse, he could find a mate?

 

He deserved that, didn’t he? Could she really let him go?

 

Then again, she didn’t have a choice, did she? He’d have a mate, a real mate. The ability to have kids, to not have to share. She couldn’t try to steal that away. If anyone deserved some real happiness, it was him. But, that would leave just her and Deacon. That felt empty. 

 

No one spoke for a minute after the end of the story, all four of them silent.

 

Danse stood after releasing a low, uneven breath. “I believe I will check defenses. I could use the air.”

 

He reached out to set a hand on Haylen’s shoulder, but he pulled back before he made contact. Then he was gone.

 

Deacon’s gaze followed him, frowning

 

“Deacon, you know about synths. Can’t you help him?”

 

He sighed, fingers tapping against his thigh. “I don’t know. This is always the risk with face swapping and memory wiping. We do it because we need to, but fuck, this isn’t unheard of. Someone gets lost. I’m gonna guess his contact lost track of him in the Capital Wasteland after he joined the Brotherhood.” Even as he spoke, he got to his feet and headed off to follow Danse.

 

It left Haylen alone with X6.

 

“I’m not going to kill you,” he said.

 

“You know, needing to say that isn’t very comforting.”

 

He shrugged like her believing him didn’t matter.

 

“You’re a courser, aren’t you?”

 

“I am.”

 

“Why are you here, then? Aren’t coursers the lapdogs of the Institute?”

 

“Even dogs get loose from time to time. Nate tore apart the Institute when he took over, and the resulting chaos meant I had nothing left to serve. My last order was to protect and follow Nora, thus I am here.”

 

“I don’t trust you.”

 

“That is wise.”

 

Haylen pointed her finger at X6. “Let me make this clear; I might just be a scribe, but if you even think about hurting either of those men, I’ll make you sorry.”

 

His lips tilted up at the corner, and she got the feeling it was the most of a smile he ever offered. “I’d expect nothing less from the woman who keeps those two men.”

 

#

 

Danse leaned over a turret on the roof, hands moving, but seeming not to pay much attention. “I’m not great company right now.”

 

Deacon hopped onto the ledge beside him. “Just right now?”

 

Danse pulled his hands from the turret and sat beside Deacon. “I’m having a hard day so you insult me?”

 

“It’s part of my charm. Imagine how weird it would feel if I was nice.” Deacon shuddered like he could think of nothing worse.

 

“It would be weird. How did Haylen do while I was gone?”

 

“Are we just going to ignore the subject at hand? Fine. She did all right. She missed you, slept in your bed, but she made it through fine.”

 

“Yes, I’d like to ignore the subject. I’m glad she did well. And you two? Did you come to some sort of middle ground?”

 

“You know, I don’t think of you any differently, even knowing you’re a synth. She and I had some hiccups, but we got alone. Unfortunately, she’s a fixer, and I think she sees me as a project.”

 

“No, I’m not different. Turns out was never even a person.” Danse gave Deacon a sidelong glance. “And she isn’t the only one who wants to try to fix you.”

 

“Can we stop this double conversation? It’s giving me a headache.” Deacon rubbed his eyes for effect. “Talk to me, would you? In case you’ve blocked out everything you could about me, I’ve had my share of dealing with synths.”

 

Danse took a deep breath, like just thinking about it hurt him. “How could this happen, Deacon? I remember my life. I remember my childhood.”

 

“Yeah, when we do memory wipes, we implant new ones. Given where you joined up with the Brotherhood, I’m sure got the treatment outside of my area. I mean, I’ve been there, but you aren’t someone I’d forget. An agent is supposed to keep an eye on their packages, even after they’d been wiped, but you ran off and joined the Brotherhood. Bet that wasn’t something they expected. I imagine you have one pissed off agent somewhere.”

 

Danse’s gaze stay locked on his hand. He stretched it out then closed it, like he was imagining what was beneath the skin.

 

Deacon reached over and closed his hand around Danse’s. “It doesn’t change a thing. All we can implant are memories; you still decide what you do with them. You joined the Brotherhood. You protected people, risked yourself for people. You did all of that. Those are yours.”

 

“What am I, though?”

 

“You’re still tin can, a surly, frustrating, far too attractive man. You still are terrible at jokes but really good at catch, good with your rifle but shitty at subtly. You’re still flesh and blood. Hell, it would take an autopsy to even find any synth components in you. Carrington could operate on you and have no idea you were a synth. Just because you came from the Institute doesn’t change who or what you are.”

 

Danse stood and paced, the darkness of dusk making it harder to spot the emotions on his face, and his voice had always been harder to read. “How can I trust myself? Nothing I believed was real. Nothing feels real anymore.”

 

Deacon shoved away his better sense and stood, advancing on Danse. He hooked his fingers into the front of Danse’s pants, above the button and cocked up an eyebrow in question. “I still think you’re pretty damned real. Can I show you?”

 

“Perhaps that’s-“

 

“-a bad idea? That’s my line, tin can. Come on, just relax and let take care of you, huh?”

 

Danse’s adams apple bobbed once before he nodded.

 

Deacon sunk to his knees, gravel from the roof digging into his knees, but he didn’t care. He undid Danse’s pants, sliding them down, along with his underwear. They stopped mid-thigh due to Danse’s feet being apart and his thighs being the size of damned tree trunks.

 

He was only partly hard, but what Deacon could see already tempted him. He drug his hands up the front of Danse’s thighs until he reached the hips. “Your body is amazing, you know that? Normally I’d let someone sit down, or hell, lie down, for this. You though? Let’s consider this a training exercise. I want to test your stamina.” Deacon grinned up at Danse, meeting his gaze over the top of Deacon’s sunglasses.

 

“You are trouble.”

 

“Oh, you have no idea.” Deacon ghosted his fingers over Danse’s cock, which had already gotten more into this. Maybe the sight of Deacon on his knees did something for the Paladin, because his body sure took notice.

 

Danse groaned, shoulders rolling like he had trouble staying still. Still, no one could fault his control, because he stayed put.

 

Deacon had pity on him and wrapped his hand around Danse’s cock. “Hmm, I wonder if they did any swapping in this area? Because I could swear this is Carrington’s work.”

 

Danse’s eyesbrows drew together. “You’re really making joke-“ His voice cut off when Deacon took that moment to offer the first real stroke.

 

“What was that? I didn’t quite catch it.”

 

“You’ll pay for this.”

 

“Promises, promises.” Deacon leaned in, darting his tongue along the head of Danse’s cock, sliding along the slit there, collected the salty drop of precum.

 

When was the last time he’d done this? Deacon couldn’t recall, meaning it had been way too fucking long. Even the few quickies he’d indulged in didn’t give him the trust to end up on his knees in front of anyone. Had to keep his wits about him and his gun easily reachable.

 

Danse’s head dropped back, his chest rising and falling even beneath his shirt. Yeah, he’d need to lie Danse down and do this right sometime. He wanted to toy with him until Danse begged to come, until he writhed beneath him, until he was lost to this. Maybe Haylen would help, those sweet kisses such a lovely balance to Deacon’s snark. Hell, Danse fucking deserved a break now and then.

 

But, that wouldn’t happen. It just wasn’t in the cards for them.

 

Danse’s hand brushed Deacon’s check. Had he stopped?

 

Fuck. “Sorry,” Deacon said, softly.

 

“Are you-“

 

Deacon shut him up by wrapped his lips around Danse’s cock. Nothing like a good blow job to stop questions he didn’t want asked. He was fine. This was fine.

 

Everything was fine.

 

Danse hissed his breath in, hand slipping behind Deacon’s head. He didn’t yank Deacon, didn’t force him forward. Hell, Danse’s hips didn’t even twitch.

 

Even Deacon didn’t have control like that. It made him want to see what it took to take that control apart.

 

No. Mind on the task at hand.

 

He swirled his tongue around the head of Danse’s cock, using his hand to stroke toward the base. Deacon’s other hand went to Danse’s hip, feeling the pulse through his warm skin.

 

He didn’t take him deep; it wasn’t something Deacon was particularly good at. Deep throating had always seemed too risky, something requiring people who could trust. So, instead, Deacon focused on lavishing attention on the head of Danse’s cock, dragging his tongue along frenulum.

 

Danse’s hand twitched behind his head, a dent in his control, so he repeated the motion.

 

“You might want to stop if you don’t want to, well.” The way Danse stumbled over the words had Deacon trying to grin around his cock. Leave it to Danse to still try and be proper even when getting a blow job.

 

Deacon took him deeper, not enough to gag, and tightened the hand he used to stroke him. Danse’s cock twitched in his mouth before he came. Deacon caught it on his tongue, swallowing to prevent gagging as some struck the back of his throat.

 

He sucked on Danse’s softening cock until he pushed Deacon away. Probably too sensitive. Unable to help a bit more mischief, Deacon delivered one more hard lick down the side before he stood, pulling Danse’s underwear and pants back up. He buttoned them, gaze locked on the action instead of meeting Danse’s gaze.

 

He wasn’t sure what would be there, but he was pretty damned sure he didn’t want to see it.

 

Danse’s hand still rested on the back of Deacon’s neck. His thumb rubbed against Deacon’s jaw like he wanted him to look up but wouldn’t force it. “Thank you.”

 

“Yeah, you know, what’s a little BJ between friends, right?”

 

“Are you going to look at me?”

 

“I’m thinking that is probably a fuck no to that. I, well, I ought to get back.” He pulled back, but Danse wouldn’t release him, kept him there in front of him. “I can’t imagine you’ve got another go in you yet.”

 

Danse dipped down to capture Deacon’s lips, despite the way Deacon wouldn’t lift his head, despite the small height difference.

 

That was. . . nice. Deacon could do this. Danse’s lips were soft against his, surprising soft giving the hard grip he had on Deacon’s neck.

 

Then Danse’s other hand drifted down Deacon’s chest, toward his crotch, and that broke the spell.

 

That was all sorts of fuck no.

 

Deacon yanked away, and this time Danse let him go.

 

“Right. Yeah.” Deacon ducked away, pointing toward the door. “I’m going to go make sure our resident courser hasn’t peed on the rug or anything. Yeah.” He nodded as he fled.

 

Real smooth.

 


	18. Chapter 18

Haylen missed Deacon. He’d gone into his room right after coming downstairs from his talk with Danse, seeming wound up and upset. Danse had come in later, saying nothing about what had happened. She hadn't pushed, giving them their own privacy. She wouldn't want either to butt into her personal dealings with either. He’d spent the night in his own room, having told Haylen he needed a little space.

 

She’d given it to him, sleeping in Danse’s room instead.

 

The bed had felt oddly empty with just the two of them, the bed cold where Deacon usually slept.

 

Morning had come early when her hands had started to shake. The sun had just started to peek above the mountains when she wandered from Danse’s room. X6 was nowhere to be seen, likely having chosen a room upstairs, or hell, maybe one in a nearby building. She didn't much care.

 

Deacon laid on his bed, awake, long legs crossed at the ankle, open book in his lap. He didn’t look up from the book. “Hey, darling. Did you need something?”

 

She found it difficult to admit that she needed some contact. The words stuck in her throat, a moment of soft panic as she thought back to Nate. She thought about him less, but she remember begging him, and him telling her to just get over it. 

 

He lifted his gaze from the book. “Come on over here, would you?”

 

Leave it to him to read her that well, to know exactly what she needed and offer without hesitation.

 

Haylen crossed the room and crawled onto the bed beside him. She slid her arms beneath his shirt and set her head on his chest. She curled into him. “I missed you last night.”

 

“Sorry. I needed to think.”

 

“Did you come to any interesting conclusions?”

 

Deacon turned the page. “I think Danse is a potential mate for you.”

 

She frowned as she nuzzled closer to him. “What does that mean?”

 

“I’ve been thinking for a while, and I think people who have a potential to become mates have some sort of connection between them. I’m going to bet you remember how we reacted to each other when you were still bonded to Nate.”

 

A shudder ran through her at the reminder of Nate, so Deacon brushed his fingers against her cheek. “Yeah, I remember.”

 

“Well, I think that explains you and Danse. The fact that he’s a synth and he has something blocking his ability to bond to a mate doesn’t change that he’ll have potentials. I think that’s you and him.”

 

It made sense. It explained why she and Danse felt so close, why she felt that connection, had since she’d first met him. It was so similar to the way she’d felt upon meeting Deacon, like she knew him somehow.

 

“It wouldn’t matter. Once they fix it, he’ll bond to someone else.”

 

“What if we could change that? What if we could break our bond? You’d bond with him. We’ll know the exact time Nora does it, so I think we could do it.”

 

Haylen sat up, staring at Deacon. “A bond doesn’t break until one of them is dead.”

 

“I know.”

 

She smacked his arm, hard. “I’m not letting you die.”

 

“Well, ideally, I wouldn’t stay dead. Carrington has been dying to kill me for a while and I’d bet he’d jump at the chance. He could stop my heart for a minute, just long enough to free you. You and Danse would bond.”

 

“You’re willing to let someone kill you for a lot of maybes.”

 

“I just-“

 

“-just nothing. That isn’t happening. Mention it again and you won’t have to worry about asking Carrington to kill you, because I’ll do it.”

 

“Ah, darling, I like when you talk dirty to me. Come on back here, would you? We will talk about it later.” He used his free hand to pull her back against him.

 

Haylen curled back around him after giving him a glare for good measure. “We will not talk about it later.”

 

“Whatever you say.” He turned a page in the book. “You’re still tired, so get some more sleep.”

 

The steady rise and fall of his chest lulled her to sleep.

 

#

 

 

Danse woke and reached for Haylen.

 

Gone.

 

He frowned, pulling himself out of the bed. The easiest way to find her, or at least check on her, would be to ask Deacon. He’d know if she was upset, if she was just relaxing somewhere alone.

 

Dressing seemed like too much work, so Danse pulled on a pair of sweats and called it good enough. He was only crossing the main room, and if X6 was out there?

 

Oh well.

 

Deacon’s door opened with only the smallest squeak, and inside he found Haylen curled up against a reading Deacon. 

 

Danse released a breath in relief. Haylen was safe, and in Deacon's arm was a pretty damned good place for her. 

 

Danse closed the door, flipping the lock. He walked over, then sat on the edge of the bed, careful to not move it. “Is she okay?” He kept his voice low, and Haylen only adjusted her grip on Deacon.

 

“Yeah, she’s fine. Woke up shaking, so she came in here.”

 

Damn. It was one thing he wished he could help her with. He didn’t mind sharing her, but being unable to meet some of her needs? Yeah, that hurt.

 

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Danse said instead. “I didn’t mean to push you.”

 

“Not your fault.” Deacon set the book down. “I told Haylen this, I’m not good at the relationship thing. Sex? I can handle no strings sex, hell I think I’m not half-bad at it, but there are strings here, and I don’t know how to deal with that. Fuck, I don’t think I can handle a real relationship with one person let alone two.”

 

Danse nodded, not looking directly at Deacon, giving him some privacy. “I’m not going to force you into anything. I just feel like I shouldn’t have taken advantage earlier when you’re clearly not ready for anything like that.”

 

“I’m not some wounded radstag who needs care.”

 

“You sure about that? Because you’re at least as flighty as she is about this all. It makes me ask, what do you want? I’m not asking what you think you can do, but what do you want? Do you want me, or her, at all?”

 

Deacon shifted on the bed, Haylen grumbling in annoyance. “I do. This would all be easier if I didn’t, but I do want whatever this is. I don’t know if I can, but fuck, yes, I want it.”

 

Danse reached out and set a hand on Deacon’s thigh, then squeezed. “Good. I’m glad you want this. We can go slow, but you have to learn to trust me, to trust us both. This won’t ever work by you trying to keep a distance. It’s time for me to get up and check on everything. You two rest for a few more hours.”

 

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Haylen’s head, then hesitated.

 

“It’s fine, tin can.”

 

He released a soft laugh before offering Deacon the same kiss. “Now, get some sleep.”

 

Deacon flashed that same snarky grin. “Yes, sir.”

 

Maybe they’d figure it out.

 

 

#

 

Deacon found Haylen on the roof after lunch. She liked to go up there to stare over the Commonwealth. He suspected it was because she didn’t feel trapped up there.

 

They’d have to plan a trip soon. Maybe they’d head to Sanctuary. It wasn’t that far, was a safe trip, and would offer her some fun.

 

Diamond City was further, with worse memories, but it was a bigger city.

 

There was Goodneighbor. It was a lot further, but fuck, it was fun. Maybe he could get her drunk, let her blow off some steam. She could be buttoned down, but he suspected she’d be fun when she let loose.

 

“You always find me.” She smiled over her shoulder.

 

“A benefit of the mate bond. Makes hide and seek very boring.” He walked up and set his hands on her hips. “What did you think about taking a trip?”

 

“Where?”

 

“What about Goodneighbor? Have you ever been?”

 

She shook her head, leaning back against him. “What’s it like?”

 

“Oh, it’s a blast. We’ll drink, get into bar fights, get Danse up on the bartop.”

 

She laughed, twisting around and twining her fingers behind his neck. “I think that sounds like fun. I’m going a little stir crazy here.”

 

The door opened, and Danse came walking up. Haylen didn’t notice as she kissed Deacon’s jaw, then over to his neck.

 

Danse lifted an eyebrow, and Deacon nodded.

 

Danse set his hands on Haylen’s hips from behind her.

 

She jerked backwards, looking over her shoulder.

 

“It’s just me,” Danse said. “Is this okay with you?”

 

Haylen nodded, leaning back slightly so she pressed against Danse as well.

 

Danse leaned in and pressed a kiss to her neck, one of his hands sliding around to her stomach. Haylen tilted her neck to give him access.

 

Deacon slid his hand up her ribs until he brushed the curve of her breast.

 

She took her bottom lip between her teeth, arching into the touch.

 

“Do you like this, Haylen?” Deacon repeated the touch, stroking harder.

 

She nodded.

 

“Use your words,” Danse whisper into her ear, fingers tracing against her skin along the waistband of her pants.

 

“Yes, I like it.”

 

“Are you afraid?”

 

She shook her head, then hesitated like she’d just remembered she was supposed to answer. “No. I’m not afraid of either of you.”

 

Danse’s lips curved into a smile. “Good.” He gave one more kiss to just below her ear before pulling back. “What were you two talking about?”

 

Deacon pulled back as well, giving Haylen a moment to steady herself. “We were thinking about taking a trip.”

 

“Sounds like a good idea. Where are we headed?”

 

“To mischief and debauchery.”

 

Danse groaned. “Goodneighbor, then?”

 

Deacon threw an arm over Danse’s shoulders. “So, you’ve been before! Wonderful, that will make the tour easier.”

 

 


	19. Chapter 19

 

Danse tightened his grip on his rifle as they entered Goodneighbor. He hated this town. He’d been there once, when they’d first arrived in the Commonwealth, and it hadn’t left a good impression. Nothing but a town full of ghouls, junkies, and criminals.

 

Ghouls didn’t bother him like they used to, but the others? Yeah. He didn't want Haylen around any of these people.

 

But he needed to trust Deacon, and Deacon had said it was safe.

 

“If it isn’t my good friend,” rasped a rough voice as a ghoul in a red coat and tricorn hat came out from an alleyway.

 

Deacon walked up, clasping hands with the ghoul. “Hey, Hancock. How’s it been?”

 

“Quiet since you and your buddy took care of the Institute and the Brotherhood. Which brings up the uncomfortable subject of why you come in here dragging a Brotherhood Paladin and a Courser behind you.”

 

“You recognize Danse?”

 

“Sure do. He shot Finn last time he was here.”

 

Danse’s knuckles blanched as he tightened his grip again. This was going as well as he’d have expected. He'd move Haylen, but X6 had already shifted slightly in front of her. 

 

Deacon laughed before he stole the cigarette from Hancock’s lips and took a drag on it himself. “Finn was an asshole, and you can’t tell me you aren’t happy he’s gone.”

 

Hancock crossed his arms. “Maybe. Doesn’t change the fact I ain’t a fan of Brotherhood walking in and offing my people.”

 

Deacon looked over his shoulder at Danse. “You promise you won’t kill anyone?”

 

“I promise I won’t kill anyone unless I have to.”

 

Deacon pointed at X6 with the pilfered cigarette. “You promise not to kill anyone unless you have to?”

 

“Or they annoy me.”

 

Deacon took one more drag before handing the cigarette back. “There we go, Hancock, see? No one will die unless they have to or they get annoying. That seems like typical Goodneighbor behavior to me. I think they’ll fit right in.”

 

Hancock rolled his eyes before passing Deacon and walking up the Haylen. Danse wanted to shove the ghoul back, but Deacon lifted his hand to stop Danse.

 

“Hey there, sunshine. What’s your name?”

 

“Field Scribe Haylen.” She pulled her shoulders back, and Danse had to grin. It was good to see that rather than watching her cower.

 

“Field Scribe, huh? Well, sister, I’m a very sick ghoul. Think you could help? I’ll turn my head and cough for you.”

 

Before Danse could say anything, Deacon spoke. “Yeah, Mayor, that’s my mate. You wanna stop propositioning her?”

 

Hancock released a soft chuckle before taking a step back. “So, you got yourself tied down, did ya? Well, well. This is amusing.” His gaze drifted between Haylen and Danse, like he saw something there, too. He only laughed again. “Come on, Deacon, you and your riffraff are welcome. I expect it’ll be a good show.”

 

Deacon stole his cigarette as he walked by. “Thanks, Hancock.”

 

“Anytime, brother. Oh, and take the top floor of the Statehouse, won’t ya? Don’t want you taking all Claire’s rooms.”

 

Danse shook his head. If these were the friends Deacon had, they were in more trouble than he’d realized.

 

#

 

Haylen looked around the top floor of the Statehouse, frowning. She was glad to get out of the Police Station, but it still seemed weird to be elsewhere with Deacon and Danse.

 

They’d fallen into their own routine, their whole own little world, and now they had to figure out how to act in the real world, in the life that was still to come. She hadn't really thought about what came next. Without the Brotherhood, what as she supposed to do? 

 

X6 set his gear up across the staircase in an empty room. He assumed the three would share a room, and somehow his easy acceptance helped. He didn’t look at them strange, didn’t judge them, only assumed they’d want to stay as a triad.

 

Danse leaned in and kissed her temple. “Are you all right? You look like you’re thinking.”

 

She smiled. “Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just sort of strange being out. I haven’t gone anywhere since it all started with Nate. Well, I mean, really since we left on the recon mission.”

 

His lips thinned for a moment. “I’m sorry. I should have taken you somewhere sooner.”

 

“It’s okay. I don’t think I was really ready until now.”

 

Deacon set his pack next to the bed before turning. “So, what do you want to do?”

 

Haylen knew her answer. “I want a date.”

 

“A date?” Danse asked.

 

“Yeah. I thought maybe we’d go to wherever the local bar is, the three of us. We’ll have some drinks, have some fun, and then come back here.”

 

Deacon’s eyebrow lifted. “What are you planning, darling? Because that face is full of mischief.”

 

She shrugged. “Nothing, except how dates normally end.”

 

Someone cleared their throat, and all three turned to face a ghoul woman. “Sorry to butt in, but Hancock asked me to stop in. I’m Daisy, and I run that shop near the gates. Said he figured you three’d hit the Third Rail and he wanted Haylen here to have something nice to wear. You want that, honey? I’ll walk you over to my shop and get all you all fixed up.”

 

Haylen took a step toward her before she thought about it.

 

“Do you think it’s wise for you to go without us?” Danse asked.

 

Daisy spoke up. “You two are exactly who are not supposed to see her. Trust me, we can handle ourselves just fine.”

 

X6 walked up from his room. “I will accompany her.”

 

“You are not going to watch me change,” Haylen snapped.

 

X6 only cocked up an eyebrow and did that infuriating head tilt. “Trust me, seeing you unclothed is not something I have any interest in. I will stay at the doorway of the establishment.”

 

Danse looked at Haylen in question.

 

Dressing up did sound nice. She hadn’t really dressed up in so long. Hell, she’d barely put on day clothing for the last few months. She wanted to look nice, to maybe show both of her boys that she could clean up nice.

 

Her boys?

 

She smiled at the natural endearment. “It’s okay. I’ll meet you two at the Third Rail.”

 

Danse nodded and took a step backward.

 

True to his word, X6 stayed downstairs. She almost felt bad for the way she snapped at him, but she couldn’t help it. Figuring him out was difficult because she couldn’t read him, could never tell what he was thinking.

 

“Alright, let’s see what we’re working with.” Daisy ran her hands down Haylen’s sides and waist, following the line of her body before she could argue. “You’ve got a great figure, honey. Why do you hide it under all these clothes?”

 

“I’ve been a soldier.” She danced around the other truth, that recently, she hadn’t wanted any man looking at her with lust. After Nate, she couldn’t stomach the idea of a man staring at her, wanting her. She wanted to disappear and hide.

 

“Let’s breathe, huh?” Daisy rubbed her hand across her back in gentle circles. “That’s better. Didn’t mean to stir up anything, honey. Just making conversation. I’m gonna guess you maybe don’t want me to truss you up like a strumpet, huh?”

 

“Yes, let’s avoid any strumpetting.”

 

Daisy laughed and left Haylen alone for a moment, riffling through chests, pulling items out before shoving them back in. Finally, she pulled out something and smiled. “This is perfect. Come on, honey, let’s pretty you up. Those boys won't know what hit 'em.”

 

#

 

Deacon sat at the table beside Danse, three beers on the table.

 

They’d changed out of their traveling clothing, both turning their backs in some sort of strange privacy attempt. It was strained and weird, and part him wanted to turn around and kiss Danse just to ease that tension.

 

But that would have been a joke, and he was trying damned hard for something real.

 

So, they’d changed and headed down. Scoring a table had been easy, since Danse managed to scowl and look intimidating. No one wanted to screw with him, and Deacon took advantage of the fact.

 

“I’m worried this is too much for her,” Danse admitted before taking a drink of his beer.

 

“She’s going to have to get back to normal life eventually.”

 

“I’m not worried about drinks at a bar, I’m worried about her after date statement.”

 

Deacon laughed, taking a drink of his own beer. Yeah, he couldn’t deny some apprehension at that. “She did well on the roof. Sounds weird, but I wonder if two men isn’t almost better for her. Something so different from what happened with Nate that it’s easier to separate them.”

 

“Only you would think that doubling a trigger is means for recovery.”

 

“Well, what else are you going to do? Turn her down? We both know it won’t go any further than she wants. If things get blue, we deal with them later, but you’ve gotta let her explore.”

 

“And if she panics?”

 

Deacon shrugged. “Then she panics and we help her. It isn’t exactly a secret I’ve panicked a few times, but we work through it. A panic attack isn’t the end of the world.”

 

“You remember when I punched you?”

 

“Oh, yeah, I remember that vaguely.” Deacon rolled his eyes dramatically.

 

“The way she lifted her arm, the way she expected me to hit her? That killed me. I don’t want to see that fear on her face again, I can’t handle it.”

 

Deacon understood that. “You know, she punched me once too.”

 

Danse cocked up an eyebrow. “When did that happened?”

 

“First night we were all at the Police Station. She woke up from a nightmare and I ran into her room to check on her. She nailed me with an elbow to the nose, then cowered on the floor because she thought I’d haul off and hit her back. I get it, that hurts, but we can’t not help her just because it’s hard. We’ll go slow, and we’ll see how it goes.”

 

Danse went to respond, but his gaze caught above Deacon’s shoulder.

 

Deacon twisted in his seat to catch sight of Haylen, her arm through the crook of X6’s. She wore a pair of pants that fit snug around her thighs and down to her ankles. It showed off her thighs, and if turned, he pet he’d get a good look at her ass. On top, she had a tank top that dipped down in the front, catching lace beneath. Was she in a lacy bra? His mouth went dry.

 

Deacon grinned. “Oh, we’re in trouble.”

 

Danse took another drink before nodding. “Yes. Yes, we are.”

 

#

 

An hour later, Haylen had polished off two beers. She leaned against Deacon’s side, relaxed grin across her lips. He had his arm over her shoulders and his own happy smile.

 

The conversation had gone easily, a back and forth that felt natural in the smoke of the bar and the singing of the woman on stage. Danse wasn’t sure he’d ever just sat and enjoyed himself like this. He had no mission to complete, no superiors watching over him, nothing but him and his two companions.

 

After leaving Haylen with them, X6 had taken his leave. He’d retreated to a spot in a back corner, close enough to keep an eye on the situation but far enough away for privacy. He hadn’t had anything to drink but water that Danse had noted.

 

Danse reached out and took her bottle from her. “I think you’ve had enough.”

 

“But I haven’t gotten to drink in forever!”

 

“Well, you could continue to drink tonight if you’d like, but if want any after date activities, you cannot get drunk.”

 

“Why not?” Her bottom lip stuck out, tempting Danse.

 

Then he realized there was no damn good reason not to indulge, so he leaned over and caught it between his teeth before tugging it gently. He offered a soft kiss before sitting back.

 

Deacon answered her. “Because while being drunk may seem like a good idea, it isn’t. Alcohol can dull your inhibitions, but it also means it’s easier to drift back into bad memories. If you want to play with us, you need to be at least mostly sober.”

 

She stilled, pressing her lips together, staring at the table. After a moment, she nodded and stood. “Okay.”

 

“Okay what?”

 

“Okay. I want to go play with you two.”

 

 

 


	20. Chapter 20

Haylen hesitated by the doorway after she’d shut and locked it. Was this a good idea? There was a lot of man inside this room.

 

Deacon kissed the top of her head. “Why don’t you just come sit down and we’ll talk this out, okay?”

 

“Okay.” Haylen followed him over, taking a seat on the bed between the two men.

 

“You know, you can call this off, Haylen. You can choose to pursue individual relationships still. Two men in your bed makes me uneasy,” Danse said, staring forward at the wall like the other two.

 

Haylen considered that. In a way, being with Deacon or Danse, one at a time, did seem safer. But then she thought about how empty the bed felt when one was missing, and knew her answer. “Whatever this is, it’s the three of us. Either of you can back out, but this is the way I want it.”

 

Deacon answered. “Okay. We can try. First though, I need to know something.” He took a deep breath like it wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have. “Don’t want to upset you, but before we do this we’ve got to know if there is anything specific that bothers you. Things will, that’s life. Things will come up and you’ll react badly to them. However, if you know you’re not going to like something, we can avoid that.”

 

She thought back, flinching at the memory of her time with Nate. Was there anything? In some ways, things felt so much different with Deacon and Danse. Hell, she’d even gotten over the fact that Deacon was so similar in build to Nate. Those things made her feel like anything they did would be nothing like what had happened with Nate.

 

Haylen had been around enough to know the difference between sex and rape. She’d had sex plenty of times before Nate, knew that wonderful feeling when someone takes their time with you, when someone cared. She even knew that animalistic part of sex, the passion and sweat and roughness.

 

She answered, voice low. “I don’t like deepthroating.”

 

Both men stilled, tension thick. It was Danse who broke it. “Okay. Do you not want to perform oral sex at all? That is okay.”

 

“No, I like that. I just. . .” her voice drifted off.

 

Deacon bumped her shoulder with his. “It’s okay. We won’t do that. Anything else?”

 

She shook her head.

 

“Anything else occurs to you during, you speak up. I might be able to feel what you’re feeling, but it doesn’t mean I can figure out why. So, tell us if something spooks you, if you’re nervous or something just doesn’t feel right. We’ll slow down.”

 

“So is the paperwork all done, then?” She grinned at Deacon.

 

“No, I expect it notarized and in triplicate before my pants come off. I am not an easy lay.”

 

Danse spoke from her other side. “He isn’t. I’ve been trying for days.”

 

Both Haylen and Deacon stared at him, Deacon speaking up first. “Is that a joke? Did you just make a joke? Haylen, I think he made a joke.”

 

“I can joke.”

 

Deacon reached past Haylen with one pointed finger, gently poking Danse in the chest. “He seems real.”

 

With that, Haylen burst into laughter. Her and Deacon fell backwards on the bed, trying to hold in the fit. And didn’t that help drain the tension away? Danse offered a scowl, but she read him well enough to notice the slight tip in the corners of his mouth that said he was amused.

 

Danse leaned down, placing a hand on the other side of Haylen’s head to kiss her. His lips teased against hers, touches that were too soft, too gentle. She hooked an arm around his neck to pull him down the rest of the distance, and his chuckle said he’d been after that.

 

But, Haylen was the one who wanted to play. She pushed on Danse’s shoulder and he sat up. “Strip.”

 

He lifted an eyebrow, but didn’t argue. His shirt came off first, and while Haylen had seen him shirtless many time, it always stole her breath. Funny a man who worried so little about what people thought of his body managed to build one that mouthwatering. But that was one of the things she loved about him, that his body was a tool to him, nothing more.

 

Deacon slid up behind her, hands drifting beneath her shirt to stroke over her stomach and hips. His lips met her neck, warm breath bringing up goosebumps.

 

Danse hesitated at his pants. “Do you want everything off?”

 

Deacon whispered into her ear. “Trust me, you do.”

 

With the two of them, with Danse going slow and Deacon a lifeline behind her, she couldn’t find it in her to be afraid. “Yes. Everything off.”

 

Danse followed the command, slipping the jeans and underwear off over his legs.

 

Haylen stared for a moment, and Deacon nipped her earlobe. “Told you.”

 

Danse moved back until he rested against the wall at the head of the bed. Haylen crept forward, Deacon releasing her so she could move where she wanted. A gentle touch to Danse’s thighs had him spreading his legs so she could settle between them.

 

She leaned over him, tracing her fingers down his chest. Meanwhile, Deacon slid up behind her, again. He didn’t grope at her, only offered touches that mimicked what she did to Danse. They relaxed her, teased her.

 

Her hands moved down over Danse’s stomach, over the dips between the muscles. When she reached his hips, she stilled. Her gaze stayed up, her courage faltering.

 

Danse leaned forward and kissed her. “We can stop.”

 

She shook her head, but her hand still trembled.

 

Deacon shifted slightly to her side and reached forward, his fingers brushing over hers. Except, he didn’t stop there. He moved them closer to Danse’s cock, like he knew exactly what Haylen wanted, like his hand was an extension of hers.

 

#

 

Deacon tried to hold his breath, didn’t want to spook Haylen. She wasn’t panicking or he’d have stopped them, she’d just lost her courage for a minute. Maybe this would help?

 

Hell, he didn’t know. He wasn’t exactly an expert at this shit. No one sat him down with a brochure over how to handle things like this. 

 

Of course, if he got to touch Danse again? And have Haylen watch? Well, he wasn’t about to complain about that.

 

He drug his fingers up Danse’s length with a playful touch, chuckling when Danse groaned and glared.

 

“What do you want me to do, Haylen?” Deacon set his chin on Haylen’s shoulder.

 

“Touch him?”

 

“I already am.” He played stupid, rewarded with a glare from her.

 

Great, he’d been glared at by them both. Why did that warm his heart so much?

 

“There,” she nodded, the slid her hand to his wrist to guide him.

 

He went where she indicated, this time wrapping his fingers around Danse’s cock. She moved his hand, and he controlled the pressure. The motion was simple, but Haylen relaxed. She leaned in, closer, watching the way the head of Danse’s cock disappeared into Deacon’s fist.

 

“You like watching, darling?” Deacon has always been a talker, and sex was no exception. Talking calmed Deacon, helped him stay in the moment, helped him ignore all the other bullshit that went on in his head all the time. 

 

Danse was quiet, he could tell, but wasn’t that just an extension of how they were the rest of the time?

 

Danse released a soft moan, the muscles in his thighs twitching.

 

“Yes,” Haylen said, her tongue darting out to wet her tongue.

 

Damn, he wanted to see her lean forward and put that tongue to use, but that wouldn’t happen today. And. . . fuck. That brought forward all sorts of other ideas, like her wrapping those lips around Deacon’s cock while Danse slid into her from behind. Danse would have his hands on her hips, and her pretty eyes would cast up, locking on Deacon's.

 

Haylen sucked in a breath like she’d caught the thought, but since she didn’t punch him, he was sure she just caught his reaction to it. They weren’t mind readers.

 

Haylen slid her hand further forward, thumb sliding over the slid at the head of Danse’s cock, catching the precum there.

 

Deacon kept stroking, but lower so she could play. After a moment, she wrapped her hand around Danse’s length herself, and Deacon took the hint.

 

He pulled his hand away and slipped it beneath Haylen shirt, fingers dipping into the waistband of her pants. “Can I?”

 

“Yes, please. Fuck.”

 

He drug his teeth over her shoulder. “Such filthy language from a soldier? Tsk tisk.” He popped the button and slipped his hand down her pants before she could complain. His hand slid into her panties and found her wet.

 

The first direct touch of his skin to her slit was like a fucking epiphany. How had he waited this long? He had to have the control of, well, Danse.

 

He chuckled at his own joke before focusing.

 

Haylen continued to stroke Danse, her other hand resting on his hip, eyebrows drawn together as she focused. Her tongue stuck out, adorable concentration across her features.

 

Deacon planned to distract her.

 

He slid his fingers against her clit, using two so he could nestle it and stroke it on both sides.

 

She gasped, head hanging forward, and Danse’s hands clenched like he wanted to touch. Poor Paladin couldn’t even see, since Deacon hadn’t removed her pants. All he’d be able to see was the movement of her pants as Deacon’s hand moved.

 

Too bad.

 

Deacon blew Danse a mocking kiss and a wink before he slid a finger into Haylen’s cunt. Another of those soft gasps met him, so he kept going. She was wet, and warm, and damned perfect. 

 

If Deacon was right, and he was usually pretty fucking good at reading people, Danse would come first. That worked out just fine for him.

 

Danse’s hips had started to raise, small jerks upward, his jaw ticking. Yeah, he was close. Danse reached up, moving Haylen’s hand away and covering himself with the shirt held left on the bed. His deep groan made Deacon’s own cock kick, wanting some of what was going on.

 

But that was too far.

 

As soon as Danse caught is breath, he pulled Haylen forward into a kiss. It made Deacon shift again so he could keep fingering her while Danse captured her lips.

 

“Thank you,” he whispered to her, voice soft.

 

She went to answer, but Deacon stroked over her clit and her voice broke, her back arching.

 

Danse grinned, sliding one hand beneath her shirt. He must have found something good, because Haylen shuddered, her cunt tightening.

 

“She likes that,” Deacon said.

 

Danse laughed, and Haylen responded the same way a second time.

 

Enough playing. Deacon pressed his thumb against her clit, just above it, pressing harder and quicker. She squirmed, her breathing devolving into a mess of shallow pants. Almost there.

 

Danse pulled her down for another kiss, and she came. Her cunt squeezed down so tight it distracted him. How damned good that would feel if he were inside of her, the way she milked his fingers, tightening and loosening in tiny waves.

 

He pulled his fingers from her and then out of her clothing. She collapsed the rest of the way forward, against Danse’s chest, his large arms wrapping around her while the two caught their breath.

 

Deacon’s gaze strayed to the door.

 

The moment felt too intimate. Too personal. Everything in him wanted to bolt. He'd done his job, and now he wanted to go away. He wanted to collect himself, get control of himself. 

 

Danse’s hand touched Deacon’s leg, forcing him to jerk his gaze back. Danse’s hand drifted up Deacon's thigh, a question on his face.

 

Deacon jerked his head for a sharp no.

 

A sigh, but a squeeze. “Okay. I’m not going to force you. Just, don’t run, please?”

 

Haylen sat up, turning slightly. She grabbed Deacon’s hand. “Don’t go.”

 

Deacon used his other hand to rub his neck. He really wanted to run. How the fuck did they both know it? He was supposed to be unreadable. Still, they both looked at him with so much damned pity he couldn’t handle it. He wanted to smile, to make a joke, to be the person who was always on top of everything.

 

Then Haylen yanked him forward. She scooted over so Deacon was in the middle, giving him no real choice but to lie down between her and Danse. They settled in, him tense.

 

Haylen rolled toward Deacon, wrapping and arm around his waist and nuzzling her forehead against his chest.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said, softly, and he didn’t even know who he was saying it to, and didn’t know what he was apologizing for other than fucking things up.

 

It was Danse who answered. “Don’t be. We’ll get there. And, this is still progress. You’re still in the room and that’s new.” Danse chuckled and slung a heavy arm over Deacon’s waist, his hand settling on Haylen’s hip.

 

Deacon bought his elbow back and hit Danse in his ribs. “No more jokes from you. That’s my job. You start doing them and the next thing I know, I’ll be replaced.”

 

Danse pressed a kiss to Deacon’s shoulder. “That’s not going to happen. Now, go to sleep.”

 

Deacon frowned, wanting to argue for the sake of arguing, but sleep did sound nice. The way the two of them curled around him helped, and the stress of feeling like a failure again drifted away until sleep took over.

 


	21. Chapter 21

Danse woke when Deacon jerked upright.

 

Deacon’s loud breathing filled the room, his hand running over his head in a clumsy motion. He licked his lips then slid out of the bed.

 

Haylen stayed sleeping, probably due to the beers she’d had. She only rolled and wrapped her arms around the pillow. Danse didn’t move as Deacon left the room, just watching the other man flee.

 

After another moment, Danse left the bed as well, slowly so Haylen would keep sleeping. It seemed like perhaps he and Deacon needed a private conversation. 

 

In the room on the top floor to the side, between their room and X6’s room, Deacon paced. His lips moved as he whispered to himself, to quiet for Danse to make out the words. 

 

“Bad dream?” Danse leaned against the door frame.

 

Deacon stopped, staring over, his lack of sunglasses the best thing Danse had seen in a while. It was easier to read him without those, harder for Deacon to hide. Even though the things were so much a part of Deacon, sometimes he wished he could destroy them.

 

“Just needed some cardio. Pacing and muttering are great for the heart.”

 

“You want to try and answer that again? Maybe with the truth this time?”

 

Deacon collapsed into a chair. His tongue slid across his lips again like his mouth was dry and he was trying to fix it. “Did you know I lynched someone?”

 

Danse’s back straightened. “Excuse me?”

 

That was the last thing he’d expected to hear from him. He tried to imagine the man before him participating in something so violent, and he couldn’t. Deacon was many things, but vicious? Cruel? No, that didn't seem to fit. 

 

“When I was younger, I was a bigot. A very violent bigot. I went around with a group of other kids, we called ourselves the UP Deathclaws, terrorizing anyone we thought might be a synth. It started with some property damage, harassment. We moved up to some beat downs, and, well, that shit never stays small. We ended up lynching someone.” Deacon shuddered, arms wrapping around his waist. “I still dream of him, the weight on the rope when I pulled it, the way he swung. We were so sure we’d finally found a synth, but now? Now I’m not sure and I have no idea if that makes it better or worse. I guess it doesn’t really matter.”

 

Danse didn’t move from the door, even as Deacon shook. What was he supposed to say?

 

“That night, I woke up screaming, thinking about the man’s eyes, the way he stared at me. I knew it was wrong, knew I couldn’t ever do anything like that again. I ran, wanted a new start. I should have gone back, turned myself into his family, dealt with the consequences of what I’d done. I should have had to pay for what I did. Maybe if I did, things would have been different. Maybe if I'd taken some sort of responsibility. . .  I don't know.”

 

Danse took a deep breath before pushing off the wall and pulling a seat in front of Deacon. “We all have a past where we’ve done things we wish we hadn’t. I’ve been a soldier for a long time, and in that service, I’ve done things that don’t leave me. Perhaps they shouldn’t leave us, because it ensures we do not make those mistakes again.”

 

“You ever lynch an innocent man? Because if not, I’m not sure you can really understand.”

 

Danse rubbed his hands on the top of his thighs. “No, I haven’t done that. However, I had orders to clear a settlement once. Intel said they were overrun with feral ghouls. I did as commanded, with the minigun of a vertibird. Upon leaving it to check the settlement, what I found were ghouls, but not feral. I helped to slaughter them because I didn’t bother to check, first.” He closed his eyes, then shook his head. “We all have things we wish we could change. We can’t, though. We must just learn from them. This is why you joined the Railroad, isn’t it?”

 

Deacon rubbed his eyes before finally meeting Danse’s gaze. “Partly. Later, I met a woman. We weren’t mates, but I loved her. We settled down, became farmers if you can imagine it from me. Well, those men, that gang, they found me. They found out she was a synth. I didn’t know, she didn’t know, I have no idea how they figured it out. When I was out trading one day, they paid her a visit. There was blood, a lot of it. They killed her, not just because of what she was, but because of what I’d done. It was a lesson. The only good thing in my life and she died because of me.”

 

Danse reached his hand out and caught Deacon’s, even with the way it trembled. “I’m sorry.”

 

“I tracked them down. I don’t even remember what I did, but when I came to, they were dead, every one of them. I slaughtered the entire group for what they’d done, but fuck, was I any better? I deserved to die alongside them, to end all of us. But I don’t die. That’s the one thing I never do, so I crawled out of there, and the Railroad found me. After my wife, and what I did to the men who killed her, they figured I’d be sympathetic. So I joined up and I’ve been trying to maybe pay for some of what I did, but I never will manage it. You can’t wipe out debts like that. There are things you can make up for and then there are things like this. There’s no making up for it. I told Haylen before, I’m telling you now, I’m not a good man. I’ve spent so many years pretending to be anyone else, lying, hiding, because I don’t deserve to be here.”

 

And finally, it all made more sense. Deacon pushed them away because he didn’t think he deserved anything. He was willing to sacrifice his own place in their relationship just because he felt he didn’t deserve to be there in the first place. It’s why he didn’t allow them to touch him, why he refused any sort of kindness toward him despite giving so much.

 

“Have you ever told anyone this?”

 

Deacon shook his head, pulling his hand back so he could lean forward, spreading his knees and dropping his head down like he was trying to get his breathing under control.

 

Danse reached out and sat a hand on the top of Deacon’s back, just below his neck, hoping the steady pressure would help. “Are you expecting me to walk away?”

 

Deacon’s shoulders shrugged even through the shaking. “That or throw me out. Maybe punch me again.”

 

“Do you know what I see what I look at you?”

 

“A devilishly handsome man who gives a really good blow job?”

 

“Well, there’s that. But what I see, is a man who does everything for everyone else. You take care of everyone around you tirelessly no matter what it costs you. You keep trying so hard to take care of Haylen and I. Don’t think she didn’t tell me about your idea of letting a doctor kill you to try and jump your bond. We all have a past, we all have things we wished hadn’t happened, that we hadn’t done, but at the end of the day, they shape us. Yours have turned you into who you are now, and whether you see it or not, that is a good man.” Danse moved his hand to Deacon’s chin, lifting it until their gazes met. “A frustrating man, but a good man.”

 

Deacon moved forward so fast, it startled Danse. Before he knew how to respond, Deacon had crawled into his lap, slamming his lips against Danse’s.

 

The kiss was more desperation and nervous energy than finesse, but that didn’t mean Danse didn’t respond. Hard not to respond when it was the first time anything Deacon did felt real. Not a ploy, not a game, not an attempt to fix anything or help anyone, but just something he wanted. It was hunger, the first time Deacon really lost himself and just acted on instinct. It was a mess of teeth smacking teeth, Deacon’s hands digging into his shoulders.

 

After a moment, Deacon pulled away, breath uneven. “Sorry.” He started to move away, red on his cheeks.

 

Danse set a hand in the middle of his back and the other on his hip to keep Deacon there. “Why are you sorry? I didn’t ask you to be sorry.”

 

“I jumped on you.”

 

“Yeah, you did. I enjoyed it, so there is no reason to be sorry.”

 

“I should control myself better.”

 

“No matter if you try to pretend it isn’t true, you have needs, too.”

 

“But with Haylen-“

 

“-Haylen isn’t here, is she? Trust me, you aren’t going to spook me.”

 

Deacon nodded, then leaned back in to offer a sweeter kiss, one that was less likely to require dental work afterward. He broke it but didn’t pull away at first. His breath spilled over Danse’s lips, so Danse darted his tongue out to trace Deacon’s lips.

 

Deacon grinned, that crooked smile that was all his. “So, you like me, don’t you?”

 

Danse rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “I remember calling you frustrating.”

 

Deacon stood and walked back toward the bedroom backward. “Yes, but let’s be honest, that’s one of the nicer things people call me.” He’d fallen back to his joking, but at least his smile seemed real.

 

Danse doubted they’d ever break him of his jokes. Those were a part of him, and the idea of him without them felt empty. All Danse wanted was for him not to hide behind the jokes, and for the first time, he thought they might be moving toward that.

 


	22. Chapter 22

 

X6 watched the three of them as they ate breakfast. Daisy had invited them over, and they ate above her shop. They seemed to settle into a routine, the three maneuvering like they fit. Perhaps others would find it strange, but X6 had seen too much pain in his life to ever ignore happiness.

 

The three of them worked.

 

Or, at least, they did right then. What would happen when Nora was able to reverse the synth’s mate blocking? Would Danse bond with someone else?

 

It would tear them apart, and that seemed wrong. It was the destruction of something that was good.

 

X6 tapped his fingers against the window sill.

 

He could help. Or he knew someone who could help. He hadn’t ever planned on seeing her again, but what choice was there? Allow these three to suffer because of X6’s own personal hang ups?

 

No. He was many things, but a coward hadn’t ever been one of them.

 

“Are you okay?” Danse asked from his seat.

 

“Yes.” X6 leaned against the window sill to stare back at them. “What would you say if I could help you?”

 

“Help me with what?”

 

“I believe I know someone who could help with the synth-mate issue. They might be able to give you an option to prevent your bonding with someone else. I would need to leave you alone to go and find her, however.”

 

Deacon set his arm on the back of his chair so he could face X6. “Who is this friend? I happen to have a great many friends, and I don’t know anything about this. Anything I don’t know about makes me very uneasy.”

 

“There was a scientist in the Institute I knew, one who worked on synths at a genetic level. I know she made it out before we blew it up.” He knew it because he’d made damned sure she got out, but no one needed to know that. No one needed to know that he’d personally slapped the pipboy with a courser chip on her arm and transporter her out of there. “If anyone could find a way around this, she could.”

 

“Why would you do that for me? I understand you’ve come here for Nora, because of what you feel you owe her, but why would you do this?”

 

Why? Because he’d seen too many things destroyed by the Institutes meddling. Because maybe he wanted to help do something good for once. Because even Father would have wanted them to be happy, to see a child of his live a good life with good people.

 

X6 would never say any of that, though. It revealed too much. Instead he offered a half truth. “Because I do not wish to see the three of you separated.”

 

Danse nodded. “Yes, please. I can come with you. I can help you find this woman, convince her to help us.”

 

“No. This will be delicate enough as it stands. As one of the Institute to escape, she is not going to be happy about seeing me. Trust me, it will be better if I do it alone. However, the real issue is that you will be on your own and there are people coming to kill you. Can you handle that? Nora will be quite displeased if you get slaughtered.”

 

Deacon laughed. “It is true, Nora isn’t one to displease. She holds a grudge. Go on, Courser, we’re fine on our own.”

 

The others agreed, and a rare spark of hope ran between the three of them, like they finally had a plan, had something that could work.

 

X6 said his goodbyes, gathered his things, and set out. He only hoped this would be worth it, since seeing that woman was something he’d sworn would never happen again.

 

#

 

Deacon spoke first, as was often the case. He liked to break the silence, to get others talking. Sometimes saying something first got others to relax, a trick he'd learned, a trick he used mercilessly, like many others. “So, Danse, are you really willing to give up having a mate?”

 

Danse sat at the table in their room, the three of them together. “Yeah, I am. I can’t imagine bonding to someone else. Not many people would be willing to work around what we have here. I’d rather never have a biological mate than risk this.”

 

“But you’re giving up more than just a mate, Danse. What about children? I can’t give you children, and you deserve that. You’d be a great father.” Haylen spoke, eyes down on her hands.

 

Deacon reached out and grasped Haylen’s hand in his own. She blamed herself for too much, always thinking this was her fault, like she’d caused this problem. It was one of the things she didn't seem able to get over, this guilt. Guilt about Nate, about Danse, about Deacon. She made herself responsible for everyone else. 

 

“Fuck kids. Look, if Haylen ends up pregnant, those kids would be yours as much as they were mine, Danse. We’d have a fucked-up and strange little family, but it would be our family. I’d never think of any kids as anything but all of ours.”

 

Danse frowned. “You would truly share your offspring with me?”

 

Deacon fought the urge to kick Danse under the table for the stupid question, for all that doubt in his face. He really didn’t get it, did he? Then again, Deacon hadn’t exactly been all that open about what he thought. “It’s not sharing, Danse. They’d be yours, too. DNA doesn’t fucking matter, you should know that. Doesn’t matter whose genes are in them, they’d be yours as much as they’d be mine. Can’t say I wouldn’t be sad that they’d look like me, because I think some little Danse look alikes would be adorable, but maybe we’ll luck out and they’ll all look like Haylen. We could dress them up in tiny suits of power armor and sunglasses. Only thing I’m sure of is that I’d never see ‘em as anything but all of ours. I just want you to think about this. I don’t want you to look back in ten or twenty years and be resentful that you didn’t get something you wanted.”

 

Danse nodded before setting his hand on Haylen and Deacon’s. “I know what I want, and it’s the two of you. I can’t imagine going to sleep alone again. I’d miss Deacon’s stupid jokes, or Haylen’s warmth. I’d miss this too much. It’s simple to me. I want you both.”

 

Haylen stared at their hands. “So, this is it, then? This is what we’re doing. No more pushing away, no more trying to pretend it’s something else or temporary. This can’t be something we’re forced into; it has to be what we want. This is what we are?”

 

Both of them looked over at Deacon, like he was the holdout, like he was the one they needed an assurance from.

 

Then again, hadn’t he been the hold out? He’d pulled away, time and time again. He’d fled from both of them, letting no one get close.

 

“Stop looking at me like that. Yes, I’m fucking staying, okay? Happy?”

 

Haylen laughed. “Not sure I’ve ever seen someone look so damned surly when making declarations of love.”

 

Deacon’s mouth dropped open as Haylen stood up. “That was not a declaration of love!”

 

“I think it was. I’m getting pretty good at translating Deacon speak now.” Haylen walked out of the room after tossing a wink over her shoulder.

 

“Then you need a few more lessons.” Deacon crossed his arms over his chest, pouting, but he didn’t care. That wasn’t love. Love was too fucking scary.

 

Danse chuckled as he stood up. He set a hand on Deacon’s shoulder and squeezed. “Keep telling yourself whatever you need to, Deacon. She’ll wear you down.” Danse followed Haylen out.

 

Deacon rubbed his hands over his face, because he knew Danse was right.

 

He didn’t have a fucking chance against those two.

 


	23. Chapter 23

 

Haylen knew Deacon was working hard at ignoring her. He had stretched out on their bed, back against the wall, book in his lap. Even after Haylen had walked in, he hadn’t put down the book.

 

She knew damned well he knew she was there.

 

“Admit it.” Haylen slid onto the bed and moved her knee to his other side so she sat in his lap. She wore the large shirt and a pair of panties, a normal outfit for bed.

 

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

 

“You love me.”

 

Deacon put the book down and set his hands on her hips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about; I don’t even like you.”

 

“You’re a terrible liar.” Haylen leaned in and pressed a kiss to the hinge of his jaw.

 

“You wound me! Hope you weren’t looking forward to any action because words like that aren’t going to inspire an erection.”

 

“Are you sure?” She let her gaze drop meaningfully to the obvious bulge in his lap that she was pressed again. “Because that seems like another lie.”

 

“What did you want? I was reading.”

 

Haylen pressed another kiss along his neck, over his pulse. “I’m bored.”

 

“You need supervision. You get yourself into trouble.”  

 

“This coming from you? Really?” Haylen let her hands drift down his chest. “Are you going to turn me down?”

 

He pressed his lips together, but all the fight drained out of him. Deacon liked to hiss at times, but he wanted her. Hell, he loved her. She knew it. He didn't have to say it for her to know it, for her to feel it. 

 

Danse had told her some of his past. Not all of it, she was sure. Danse wanted Deacon to talk to her himself, but Danse had explained that Deacon had had a wife, and that she’d been murdered. Said he blamed himself for it.

 

It helped her understand him better, understand why he shoved them away, why he did the things he did.

 

“No, I’m not going to turn you down. However, I’m not going to have sex with you.”

 

Haylen pulled back, unable to help the hurt at the quick rejection.

 

He caught her behind the neck so she couldn’t retreat far. “It’s nothing personal. I’m not ready for children yet. I know it typically takes a while, but I don’t want to risk it. Not yet. This is all so new, and we have to many other things going on, I can’t risk it.”

 

That made sense. Pregnancy wasn’t something people had to think about normally, since only mates could have children. “I’m not ready for kids either,” she admitted. “But I feel like that isn’t fair for you, like you’re being left out.”

 

He laughed, that soft laughed that was so him, the one that said he was six moves ahead already and found you struggling to keep up cute. “I’m not worried about that. At my age, you stop worrying about that.”

 

Haylen pinched his side, rewarded with a dramatic yelp. “You’re not that old.”

 

“You have no idea how old I am, so how would you know? Keep misbehaving I’ll put you over my knee young lady.”

 

“Try it, I dare you.”

 

They held eye contact for a moment, daring each other, before both laughed.

 

“So, what were you thinking to cure your boredom?”

 

“I wanted to touch you.” Her voice went soft, heat on her cheeks.

 

Deacon caught her chin so she’d continue to meet his gaze. “You sure about that?”

 

“Yes. I’ve already gotten the chance to sort of acquaint myself with Danse. I want to do that with you, too. I told you before, you’re more difficult. I’ve known Danse a long time, and physically, he’s nothing like Nate. I need to get used to you, slowly. Besides, anytime we’ve been together, you’ve never really let anyone touch you. I want to change that, if you’re okay with it.” Haylen set her hands on the edge of his sweat pants and waited. This had to be his choice. He had to be okay with this.

 

Finally, he nodded. It was nothing but a quick jerk of his head like he wanted to say no but just couldn’t bring himself to do so.

 

Haylen slid off him while she pulled his pants down. He wore nothing beneath since he’d been ready for bed.

 

“You want my shirt off, too?”

 

Haylen nodded.

 

Damn, he was good looking. She hated that Nate had been so similar physically. If it hadn’t been for Nate, she’d have loved Deacon’s body. It was so lean but strong, not an once of unneeded fat or extra muscle. It was pure utility.

 

Haylen stoked her hands down his chest, over his stomach. Nice and safe, this touch. She’d wrapped her arms around him before, felt his chest, his back. This was familiar. Safe.

 

“What are you thinking about?”

 

She set her hands on his waist, then slid them over his hips. “That I wish Nate hadn’t been an issue. That I could be here with you without him. That he ruined so much.”

 

“I told you before, he didn’t ruin anything. You know you keep teasing me, right? I see that spark Danse talks about coming back. Nate couldn’t drive it out of you, only dimmed it for a while. Besides, the fact that you like to mock me says you must be starting to trust me.”

 

“Nope. I just know that you love me.”

 

“Are you ever going to stop saying that?”

 

“Not till you admit it.” Haylen scooted down Deacon’s body then leaned forward, so her face was close to his cock.

 

Deacon sucked in a quick breath. “Fuck, Haylen, I don’t think I’ve ever been examined this closely, and Tom does some very close examinations. He once-“

 

“-quiet. No lies.”

 

“But that’s part of my charm.”

 

“That’s all of your charm, you mean?”

 

“Harsh- fuck- warn me next time, will you?” His hands pulled into fists beside him and he dropped his head backward when she wrapped her hand around his cock.

 

The door opened, and Haylen didn’t need to turn around to know it was Danse. The way Deacon didn’t tense, didn’t pull away, it told her who it was.

 

The bed dipped behind her and large hands rested on her hips while she stroked Deacon, familiarizing herself with him, with his body, with those muffled sounds he tried to hide. And Deacon was many things, but he was disciplined. He didn’t move as she explored.

 

“I’m glad my errands didn’t take too long.” Danse pressed a kiss between her shoulder blades. “Do you want me to give you two some privacy?”

 

“No. I want. . .” And there came her shy side. She wanted him to fuck her. It sounded crude and wrong and crass but that’s what it was. She’d enjoyed sex before Nate and she wanted to enjoy it again. She wanted to feel him sliding inside of her, she wanted to feel that stretch, to feel filled. She wanted to move past Nate with this, finally.

 

But, none of those words came out.

 

Deacon sat forward enough to slide his fingers through her hair, staring at her face. Probably reading her, piecing together what he knew with what he felt through their link. “You’re sure?”

 

She nodded. “Please.”

 

Danse’s hands tightened on her hips like he’d just figured it out. “Deacon, I need you to pay close attention, please. Let me know if she starts to panic. You might be able to tell before she does.”

 

“Right, because when she’s touching me like this I’m thinking straight. This is a great help to focus.”

 

Danse slid Haylen’s shirt up to her waist, then pulled her panties off her long legs, working them beneath where she rested on her knees. “I’m sure you can manage.”

 

Haylen continued to stroke Deacon, her other hand settling on his hip to brace herself.

 

Danse pressed his fingers to her slit, a deep groan as the slipped into her. Then again, he hadn’t touched her like that before, had he? The last time, she’d touched him and he’d kept his hands to himself.

 

“Don’t make me beg,” she said, her breath blowing over Deacon’s cock.

 

Danse slid his fingers out of her. “Are you sure you’re ready? We can go slower. I don’t want it to hurt.”

 

Haylen darted her tongue out to trace the slit at the head of Deacon’s cock. He muttered something she didn’t catch.

 

“I’m not some virgin, Danse. It won’t hurt. Please? I need you.”

 

His sigh said she’d won. Haylen slid her lips along Deacon’s cock as Danse fit his against her.

 

Haylen focused on her tongue sliding against Deacon, finding each detail and memorizing them. She hadn’t done this for a while, and part of her had worried Nate would destroy how much she enjoyed it. But Deacon wasn’t Nate. Nate had held her still and pushed into her mouth, into her throat. He’d ended up with wounds on his thighs from her nails.

 

Deacon tipped her chin up to meet his gaze, eyes focused like nothing else was happening, a question in his face.

 

Haylen offered him a smile as she shoved away the thoughts of Nate and put her attention back on him. Seeing him helped. He didn’t look like Nate in his face. Nate never gave her a smile like that, never had eyes like those.

 

Danse pressed into her, and Haylen arched her back at the fullness.

 

She set her forehead on Deacon’s hip as she adjusted. He stroked her hair, and Danse didn’t move, his thumbs rubbing circles on her hips where he held her. She’d expected it to hurt. Why, she had no idea. Like she’d told Danse, she wasn’t inexperienced. Still, her body tensed for a moment, expecting a stab of pain, expecting violence, expecting something.

 

None of that happen, nothing but the wonderful full feeling, the soft burn as he stretched her, the twitching of her cunt because she wanted him to move.

 

Haylen pulled in a breath before lifting her head and returning to Deacon’s cock. This time she slid her lips over the head.

 

Deacon nodded toward Danse, and it had Danse pulling out of her, a slow retreat that drug him against her walls.

 

Danse set an easy pace, deep but controlled. His grip on her hips meant she didn’t move forward at all, allowing her to focus on Deacon without worrying about her balance.

 

The silence of the room wrapped around her. Soft moans, occasional gasps, that was it. Deacon wasn’t making stupid jokes, he wasn’t trying to control everything, to distance himself, he was just there.

 

Haylen used her hand to stroke Deacon’s cock, her tongue toying with the head, an occasional moan when Danse pressed into her just the right way.

 

Danse had started to speed his thrusts, snapping at the end like he couldn’t quite get in far enough. Then again, how long had they taken to get here? Years of tension, years of want, of heartache, of fallbacks. Finally, they were here.

 

And who would have thought that they’d have a smart assed, lying spy to balance things out?

 

Danse pushed in especially quick, knocking Haylen forward. It pressed Deacon deeper into her mouth, far enough she pulled off, gagging.

 

And everyone froze.

 

“Shit. I’m sorry,” Danse said, the curse word so strange from him it almost had her laughing.

 

Deacon grasped her chin again, surveying her face. “You okay, there?”

 

Haylen gasped in a breath before she started to laugh. Any other reaction might have sent her into panic, but with them? Fussing over her like she was a fragile dish that might crack? She couldn’t help but laugh.

 

“I fail to see how this is funny,” Danse said, still inside her.

 

Haylen grinned at Deacon. “I’m not made of glass.”

 

Deacon returned the smile. “She’s fine, tin can. Get back to it, would you?”

 

Danse grunted, a sound that said he thought they both might be idiots, but he resumed his quick pace. This time, Haylen braced herself better to prevent a repeat. She took Deacon’s cock back into her mouth, speeding her other hand.

 

“Not playing around anymore, are you?” Deacon’s words came out breathier than usual, like he was trying to keep them even but couldn’t manage it. “You want to maybe pull off? Things are getting a little tense.”

 

Haylen pulled her lips off him, making sure to tease him as she did it. “I want you to finish. I’ll stop if you want me to, but I want to finish.”

 

“Okay.” His voice was soft. “Okay. But, I’m still not going to say I love you.”

 

“That’s okay. You already did, just in your own way.” Haylen took him deeper into her mouth to keep him from arguing.

 

She didn’t slide her lips down too far, working him quicker, in time with Danse’s thrusts. Deacon slid a hand into her hair but didn’t grip. His thumb rubbed over her temple. His hips twitched as he came, spurting into her mouth.

 

Haylen swallowed, then used her tongue on him until he groaned and pulled her away.

 

“Knock that off, young lady.”

 

Danse pulled out of her, letting her scoot up so she could kiss Deacon, pressing her chest against his. She wrapped her arms around him, knees on either side of him, back arched. Danse settled behind her and slid back into her.

 

Deacon kissed her, even though he had to taste himself. If he minded, he didn’t say anything. He reached between them, fingers sliding along her slit, touching where Danse was thrusting into her. Deacon’s lips tilted up before he focused on her clit.

 

He toyed with her relentlessly. The way Deacon read her, the way he played her, it was almost scary. She’d never met anyone else who paid such close attention. In a few moments, he had her writhing between Danse and him. She broke the kiss and pressed her forehead against his shoulder, breath uneven and quick.

 

Danse pushed in once more as he came, and Deacon took the chance to pinch down on her clit. Haylen bit down on Deacon’s shoulder to muffle the moan when she came. He tensed but said nothing, even when she finally released and spotted the teeth marks.

 

Danse pulled out of her, the movement making Haylen gasp and jerk away because of the fraction against her overly sensitive nerves. “Easy,” he said, still holding her hips. He grabbed a rag and handed it to her. “Was that all right?”

 

Haylen wiped herself off. “Yeah. It was great.” She shifted off Deacon so she could sit beside him and offer Danse a kiss.

 

Deacon pulled away slightly. “I’m gonna take a walk.”

 

Danse sighed. “Not again.”

 

Deacon shook his head, reaching his hand out to take Danse’s. “Not like that. I’m not running away. Look, you know what I went through with Barbara, and I just need to take a walk. I feel like I need to think, maybe resolve some shit. I don’t know I just. . .” He sighed, staring down at where he and Danse touched. “Like I need a minute to tell her or something.”

 

“Do you want either of us to come with you? Unlike you, we can be quiet.”

 

Deacon shook his head. “I need to do it myself. I’ll come back, just an hour, maybe two. I never really said goodbye, you know? After she died, I lost my shit, and then I threw myself into the Railroad. I think I need to just walk and sit somewhere and say my goodbyes. We’re really doing this thing with us, it’s the first time I’m really committing to moving on, and I need to say my goodbyes.”

 

Danse grabbed Deacon be the shoulder and pulled him forward, into a deep kiss. After a moment, pulled back. “Okay. If you need anything, you know where we are.”

 

Deacon nodded, kissing Haylen on the forehead before dressing and walking to the door. However, because he didn’t seem to know how to leave without annoying everyone at least one more time, he grinned and tossed Haylen a wink. “And I still am not declaring my love. That’ll happen about five seconds before I'm gonna die.”

 

Haylen stuck her tongue out. “Liar.”

 

“You know it.” He shut the door, ending the conversation.

 


	24. Chapter 24

 

Deacon brought his cigarette to his lips as he leaned against the outside wall of Goodneighbor beside the gate. How did you say goodbye to someone?

 

How the fuck did you say sorry to them?

 

He should have been there, with Barbara. That was the worst part, he thought. The fear she had to feel, all alone, as those men tore her world apart. He’d seen enough synths find out the truth over the years to know they never took it well, but to hear it from an enemy? An enemy that planned to kill you?

 

He couldn’t fix it, either. That hurt the worst, that he couldn’t make it up to her, that he couldn’t help her. She was gone and it was over, no matter how many times it played in his head.

 

But standing there, he said his goodbye. He wasn’t about to punish Haylen and Danse for what he’d done before. And pulling away, it would hurt them. Maybe that’s part of what this was, his chance to make things right, to make up for what he’d done before.

 

Footsteps caught Deacon’s attention. No one snuck up on him, so he caught sight of them before they got close.

 

The man had a hat on, normal wasteland trader attire. Still, he walked with a confidence that unnerved Deacon. “Evening,” he man said.

 

“Evening ended a while ago. It’s full on night, now. Course, a town like this, it never closes.”

 

“True, true. Got an extra?” The man gestured at the cigarette in Deacon’s hand.

 

“Sure, buddy.” Deacon took another from his pack and held it out at the tip so the man had to reach close. It allowed Deacon to catch sight of the man’s face.

 

Fuck.

 

Rhys. He’d seen the prick when he’d gone with Nora to see Haylen at the Police Station, and Deacon didn’t forget a face. It had to be who was sent to kill Danse.

 

No one better than a friend to send as an assassin. The question was, did he recognize Deacon? How much did he know?

 

Never let your hand show.

 

“Heard Mayor’s gonna be giving free rounds tonight. I plan on drinking the asshole dry.” Deacon grinned, keeping in character. “You here for the free booze?”

 

“No. I’m looking for a friend. Heard he might be here.”

 

Friend? Right. Deacon kept his smile even when he wanted to kill the asshole. Still, he’d left his rifle in the room. Only reason he even left the gates was because Daisy had yelled at him about the cigarette smoke, as if she really could smell it over the urine and trash that made up Goodneighbor.

 

“Well, I know pretty much everyone here. You toss me a few caps for my trouble, I could point you the right way.” The right way being right the fuck out of Goodneighbor and as far away from Danse as possible.

 

Hell, if he could get five minutes, Deacon could grab his rifle, set up a shot, and end this tonight. Right now, right here. He just had to bluff Rhys away.

 

“Yeah, maybe. Big guy, lot of muscle, straight laced. Goes by Danse, wears power armor a lot.”

 

“Seems like the sort of guy I’d remember. Ain’t seen him, I don’t think.”

 

Rhys lit his cigarette and pressed it between his lips. “He’s traveling with a woman. Sort of plain, brown hair, named Haylen. She used to be mouthy, but she cowers a lot more than she used to.”

 

Deacon smiled wider to hide any reaction. “Nah, can’t say I seen her either.”

 

Then Rhys pulled his pistol and pressed it to Deacon’s forehead. “What about the shady man with the costumes who showed up with that vault dweller? Because that’s you. I doubt it’s coincidence that you’re here when Danse is. How are you tied up in all of this?”

 

Deacon took a drag of the cigarette, the tip brightening the darkness between he and Rhys. Play the game, D. Pay attention. “No idea what you’re talking about.”

 

“Did that vault bitch put you up to this? She turns Haylen against us, destroys the Prydwen, and now this? It’s probably her fault Maxson ran, too, wasn’t it? Are you just a bodyguard? Because you’re not doing a very good job. See, I already know Danse is in there. I’ve got sources who said Danse came into town with Haylen, some asshole with sunglasses, and a courser. Guess which one you are?”

 

“The asshole?”

 

“That’s right. Now, is there any reason I shouldn’t just shoot you? I bet if I took your sunglasses and your jacket, I could walk past those guards and right into the room they’re staying in.”

 

He was right. Fuck. Think.

 

Deacon didn’t much care if he lived through this. He just needed to get Rhys away from Danse.

 

Looked like it was time for the best sort of lie, the sort that is half-truth.

 

“You could kill me, but when your higher ups learned you did it, they’ll be pissed.”

 

Rhys dug the barrel of the pistol against Deacon’s head. He’d probably bruise. Lovely. “What makes you so important?”

 

“I’m only head of intel for the entire Railroad. You really think your bosses would be happy you let all those great little secrets leak out of my head and into the dirt?”

 

“You’re lying to keep your own skin.”

 

“You willing to risk that? Because I am Agent Deacon, the man who has outwitted you fools at every turn. Why am I with Danse? Because I knew exactly what he was the whole time. Who do you think sent him into your ranks? I put him in Rivet City with Cutler. I’m the one who infiltrated your stupid organization, I know everything he knew, at least until I wiped his memory because I don’t like loose ends. Why do you think I brought him here? And if you think he’s the only plant I have, you’re a fool. Go ahead and kill me, it won’t do you any favors. Danse is a useless shell now and my other sources will pick up where he failed.”

 

Bluffing worked, but nothing worked like anger. Rile people up and they stopping being able to find holes in your lies. Rely on emotions, on peoples inability to control them. 

 

Rhys froze for a moment before lifted the pistol and striking Deacon with it. It flung him over, twisting him so he faced the fence.

 

Perfect.

 

Deacon spat blood onto his finger, pretending to be catching his breath as he used the blood to write a message on the gate. His broken sunglasses sat in the dirt.

 

They’d see the glasses, they’d find the note.

 

“You win, Agent Deacon. But, trust me, you’re going to wish this was one thing you lost.” Rhys grabbed Deacon’s arms, twisting them behind his back before snapping cuffs on him.

 

As he yanked him away from Goodneighbor, Deacon sighed.

 

Yeah, so he was going to die, but as long as he got Rhys the fuck away from Danse and Haylen?

 

Well, it was probably long past his time to go.

 

#

 

Danse tried to hide his worry, but he couldn’t manage it. Haylen needed him to be strong, to look like none of this bothered him. But, he knew he was failing. Where was Deacon? Why hadn't he come back?

 

Deacon hadn’t returned. Had he run?

 

Haylen couldn’t feel anything across the link. He was there, but he had a tight grip on his emotions, because she couldn’t pick up anything. He wasn’t in Goodneighbor, but that was all she got.

 

“Have you seen Deacon?”

 

Daisy gave him a sweet smile. “Yeah. I yelled at him last night. He was smoking next to the door, and I hate with that smell comes into the shop. Sent him outside the gates. No idea when he came back, I went to bed.”

 

Danse thanked her, Haylen on his heels, as they went outside the gates.

 

They’d made so much progress. He couldn’t have run away, not like this. He knew Haylen needed him; he’d never just abandon her.

 

Outside the gates, they saw nothing at first. Then Haylen froze, releasing a sharp gasp.

 

On the ground by the gate, laid a pair of sunglasses, broken. They were Deacon’s. There was no way by then Danse wouldn’t know those damned glasses.

 

He knelt in the dirt to lift them. One of the lenses had shattered and the frames has broken. Someone had struck him hard while he wore them. It was the only thing that made sense.

 

Danse lifted his gaze to the fence as he went to stand and came face to face with a message written in blood.

 

Haylen knelt beside him, reading the same message.

 

 

_Rhys is a dick._

_Fine. I love you._

 

 

Haylen spoke first, voice quiet. “Rhys has him. Deacon said he’d tell me he loved me five seconds before he died. That’s what he’s telling us, that he isn’t going to live through this. He was saying goodbye.”

 

Danse set his hand on the message, pulling in a deep breath before standing. “Funny that he can be frustrating even when he writes goodbye notes. Too bad for him, this is one time I plan to prove him wrong. Come on, we have work to do, and then we have an annoying liar to save.”

 

 


	25. Chapter 25

 

Deacon groaned as he came to. Another good hit to the temple had both knocked him out, and told him that Rhys did not appreciate his on-point sense of humor.

 

This was shaping up to be a terrible interrogation. Didn’t he know the game? There was a give and take to interrogations, a push and pull. It was a relationship like anything else.

 

You had to work a person, and not just with knuckles and metal.

 

He coughed, spitting blood as he did so. Rhys was a fan of the knuckles and metal routine. At least he had a short break.

 

Rhys had to be sleeping. Guess beating the shit out of someone took energy. Poor guy needed a nap.

 

Deacon chuckled at his own joke, then hissed when it sent waves of pain, then nausea. Yep. Ribs.

 

He reached out over their link. Any connection to Haylen would risk her sensing him, but fuck, he wasn’t dumb. He wasn’t living much longer. He wanted to touch her somehow, even if it was just a link.

 

Fear, worry, panic.

 

Yeah, great. Deacon took a shallow breath before trying to push calm through their link.

 

The response? Hell, if she was in the room, he suspected she’d have slapped him across the face. He could just see her standing there, hands on her hips, lecturing him about trying to help her when he needed the help. And Danse? He’d cross his arms and shake his head, silent but lips thinned into an unhappy line.

 

Fuck, he was gonna miss them.  

 

He should have tried harder, given them more. Instead of letting all his own bullshit get in the way, he should have laid everything out from the start.

 

Not like any of that mattered. He just needed to piss Rhys off a little more. The man had a temper and annoying him was not only easy, but fun. Sure, it came with some painful consequences, but it was worth it.

 

Haylen could follow the link to him, and to Rhys. It meant Deacon needed Rhys to lose it and finish this.

 

“Hello.” Rhys walked into the room, cloth wrapped around his knuckles. How sad, he must have bloodies his poor knuckles when walloping on Deacon. 

 

“Enjoy your nap? Was it beauty sleep? Because if so, you might need a little more. Gotta say, those bags? Not pretty. It’s why I wear the sunglasses.”

 

Rhys took a drink of the water on the table. “Are you going to tell me what you know?”

 

“Yes. Orange? Not your color. Haylen is a fall, but you? You’re a winter. Orange makes you sallow. Not good.”

 

And there Rhys went. He enjoyed the backhanding. One would think he'd change it up a little, work the kidneys more, maybe some fingernail work.

 

Rhys grinned as Deacon spat more blood. “Do you ever shut up?”

 

“Thought you wanted to talk, buddy.”

 

“I’m starting to think you don’t know anything. Maybe you’re nothing but a liar.”

 

Deacon met Rhys’s gaze and smiled, knowing his teeth were smeared with blood. He could taste it, but oh well. He wasn’t winning any beauty contests. “Well look at you, finally catching on.”

 

#

 

Haylen turned the corner into the Railroad HQ and ran into someone’s chest. Someone large and wearing a battlecoat she’d never forget.

 

Hands grasped her arms to keep her from bouncing off him and falling, but she jerked away. “Don’t touch me,” she hissed.

 

Arthur lifted his hands and took a step backward. “Sorry, Haylen. I wasn’t trying to startle you.”

 

Danse had gone with X6, leaving Haylen on her own. It meant Haylen had no backup as she stared down the man she’d trusted, the one who had been willing to let Nate have her just for his victory.

 

“What are you doing wandering around? Last I heard, you were a prisoner.”

 

“I still am. However, I’ve proven myself useful enough they decided the cell was no longer needed. Besides.” He lifted his pant leg to show a small device. “Basically a slave collar. If I try to leave, or if they press a button, there goes my leg, at least.” He released his pant leg, the set his arms behind him.

 

He looked so much like the man Haylen had followed, the one who had made her believe.

 

As soon as he stood like that, he shook his head and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m sorry, Haylen. I told Danse I wanted to apologize to you, someday. That, perhaps, you could listen to me. You don’t have to forgive me, I can’t earn that, but I want you to know, I am sorry. I allowed pride to blind me, and I allowed you to be harmed while under my command, and that is unforgivable. I can’t make excuses; I won’t. I was wrong, and I am sorry.”

 

Haylen narrowed her eyes, suddenly furious. Harmed? Did he understand the situation at all? She moved forward until she was in his space, lower her voice. No one else needed to hear what she had to say. “Sorry doesn’t cut it, Arthur. You knew what Nate was doing. You knew what he was. You weren’t blinded to anything, you just decided to it was worth it. So you can take all your apologies and shove them wherever you want, because I don’t need or want them.”

 

She wanted to punch him. She wanted to be Nora, someone who could throw down with the men in her life, someone strong and capable.

 

But she was her, so she pulled her leg back and kicked him in his shin.

 

Arthur cursed, but tried not to let it show on his face.

 

Haylen took it as a win and turned to walk away.

 

#

 

Danse stood beside X6, Dez, Glory, Arthur, and a woman he didn’t recognize. It must be the woman X6 had gone to find, but that didn’t matter right then.

 

Saving Deacon mattered.

 

“I can locate him,” Haylen said, stepping up beside Danse.

 

“You don’t need to be around this.”

 

“Don’t argue with me, you won’t win. You need me there. We both know Rhys, and I’ve felt Deacon through the link. He’s getting weaker and he’s in a lot of pain. He’s going to need medical treatment fast. I’m going.”

 

“You know I’m there,” Glory said. “Deacon showed me around, watched over me. He’s family and I’m not letting his skinny ass have all the fun.”

 

“I’ll go.” Arthur kept his gaze off Haylen, like he knew it wouldn’t be welcomed.  

 

“I don’t trust you enough to send you off on a mission. Not to mention, you have no reason to care about an agent of ours at all. Why would you go?” Dez flicked ash from her cigarette into the ashtray on the stone table.

 

“Two reasons. One, Glory is going. I intend to make sure she comes back. Two, Deacon is important to Haylen. I harmed her by my inaction in the past. I will not repeat that mistake. Give the remote to my anklet to Glory and hook it to her location. If I try to leave her, it will trigger. If I turn on her, it will trigger. Please, let me help. I know the Brotherhood. I know Rhys. I can fight.”

 

Danse was the one to answer. “I’ll allow it. We need all the help we can get. If we don’t do this fast, if we can’t overwhelm him, Rhys may kill Deacon as soon as we get there. I believe Arthur wants to make up for his past mistakes, and even if this won’t do it, it’s a good step.”

 

X6 spoke. “Nora and Gage would come, but they aren’t here. You just missed them. They left two hours ago, which brings us to another topic. They know how to turn off the synth mate block. A special relay that Rachel Ayo gave us the location of. By tomorrow, they relay will reactive all synths mate bonding. I realize this is not at the top of your list of worries, but there won’t be another chance to discuss it.”

 

Danse took a deep breath before asking. “Did you have any luck?”

 

X6 nodded. “I did. Is this what you want? It cannot be undone. If I do this for you, you’ll never be able to find a biological mate, will never be able to father children.”

 

It didn’t even require thought. “Yes. I want this.”

 

#

 

X6 knew that would be the answer. He could read people, most people, at least.

 

As usual, Rachel confused him.

 

She charged him, slamming into him. She wouldn’t have gotten him to even budge, except he saw what was in her hand. The needle. She intended to inject him with the only dose. He jerked to the side, catching her wrist while they both crashed backward, her falling on top of him.

 

She struggled, but she was nothing against his strength. He peeled the needle from her hand and tossed it to Danse.

 

“You said it was for you. I made it for you, not for him.”

 

X6 shoved Rachel off him, then stood, not bothering to help her as she slammed her fists against the ground mid-tantrum.

 

“Inject that, now. I’ll go with you to help Deacon. Let me get Rachel situated, first.” He grasped her arm, hauling her to her feet without listening to any complaints.

 

Maxson wasn’t using the cell, so Rachel could use it. She was vengeful enough to make others here pay for her anger with him.

 

Once inside, X6 released her.

 

She jerked away, nailing him with a glare. “Don’t touch me. That serum was supposed to be freedom for me. It was supposed to be for you.” She shoved his chest but he didn’t budge.

 

“It looks like you are stuck with me.”

 

“Only until I manage to kill you.”

 

He walked up to her, stalking her until her back hit the wall. He leaned in to her space. “You haven’t killed me yet, so why do you think you could manage it now? Mates can’t kill each other.”

 

“We aren’t mates.”

 

“Not yet, but you know as well as I do, as soon as Nora activates that relay, we will be. Would you like to deny it?”

 

She met his gaze, holding it, all fire and intelligence. He’d always been drawn to that, to her damned brain. She might not be able to challenge him physically, but she was far smarter than he was. Hell, she was smarter than anyone he’d dealt with. It was why he gave her no allowances, because she could hold her own against him. She’d outsmarted him far too often already.

 

“I’ll figure out a way to get out of this.”

 

“If anyone could, it would be you.” He leaned in until her breath warmed his lips. “I can’t wait to see you try.”

 

She leaned toward him, and he thought, for a moment, she meant to kiss him. Instead, she took his bottom lip between her teeth and bit down hard.

 

He pulled back, the blood helping his lip slip from her teeth without losing it entirely. Vicious woman.

 

“Try to stay out of trouble while I am gone,” he said.

 

“I hope you die.”

 

He paused by the door, meeting her eyes that spit fire. “One of these days it will happen. Maybe you’ll find yourself lucky, and it will be today.”

 

#

 

Maxson held the laser rifle, aiming it at their shooting range. The sights had it fire to the left, but he could correct for that.

 

“Can you do this?” Glory leaned against the wall, crossing one ankle over the other.

 

“Yes. I told you, I am a solider.”

 

“Yeah, but killing your own is different. I don’t even like to kill the gen 1 and 2’s.” Glory liked to do that, to throw the fact she was a synth in his face.

 

“You mentioned that a lot. Trying to get a rise out of me?”

 

“I’d suggest you make sure nothing on your rises while you’re near me, Elder.” She sneered the title.

 

“Yes, I can go against Rhys and any Brotherhood. If they decide to fire on me, then they are fair game.”

 

“Why are you really doing this? I heard your pretty version out there, so tell me. Why are you doing this?”

 

Arthur hooked the laser rifle to his pack but turning to face her. “Those were real reasons. I won’t let you go alone. I’m drawn to you. I don’t know why, but I’ve been drawn to little before, and nothing outside of the Brotherhood. It has to mean something. He's a friend of yours, and that makes it important to me, as well. Also, I won’t let Haylen lose this man. I was the one who allowed her to stay with Nate. I turned my eyes away as she suffered, and I need to try to make that up to her. I should have put Nate down when he walked onto my ship. I knew what he was. I’d seen enough monsters with those eyes, I knew it. I just pretended not to see it because I sometimes monsters can do things no one else can. I traded Haylen’s well-being for my own ambition. It makes me no better than Nate, but I can do this, so I will do this.”

 

Glory’s eyes narrowed, that shrewd way she’d look at him, like she was staring past all the layers he wore, like she saw the frightened, timid little boy he was beneath it all, the one who had been sent away from his mother to toughen him up. “Well, don’t get any ideas. If I don’t like anything you do, I won’t hesitate to activate that bomb strapped to your leg.”

 

“Whatever you say. You’re in charge, Ma’am.”

 

She grinned, but if anything, it made him nervous. Her happy hadn’t proven itself to be a good thing. “I like how that sounds. Go gather ammo and a few stimpacks for us. Who knows, maybe I won’t shoot you.”

 

He nodded and left to gather the supplies.

 

Her soft, mocking voice followed him. “Maybe.”

 

#

 

Haylen took a deep breath as she pulled the armor Glory had given her tight. She hadn’t wanted to take it, but they’d all reminded her that Deacon would kill them if she got hurt.

 

It seemed, as Deacon’s mate, she was family. They’d taken her in without question, reminding Haylen how little about Deacon’s life she really knew. These people were his family.

 

Danse fastened her armor behind her, then helped her with her pack. She carried a pistol, a rifle, and then medical supplies. She didn’t plan on being in combat, mostly just mopping up injuries. Haylen was a believer in knowing your strength and weaknesses. She wasn’t a great shot, but she could patch people up.

 

Stick with what you’re good at.

 

Danse came around and lifted her gaze with a finger beneath her chin. “Are you okay?”

 

“I’m scared,” she admitted. “I’m terrified we’ll lose him.”

 

Danse pulled her against his chest, and when he spoke, it was soft. “I’m afraid, too. But, if anyone could survive this, we both know it’s Deacon. Just keep your head down, Haylen. I can’t lose you both.”

 

Haylen returned the tight hug before pulling away. No time to waste. Deacon was even weaker than he had been before.

 

She walked, Danse behind her, to the back exit to find the rest of their group. Glory, Arthur, and X6 all stood, armed and looking like the most dangerous group she’d ever seen. Danse stepped into his power armor, and Haylen couldn’t help to smile.

 

Rhys was fucked.

 


	26. Chapter 26

 

Haylen tried to keep her nerves steady as they cleared the lower floors.

 

Taking out the turrets proved easy. Rhys was nothing if not a soldier who followed protocol. It meant between Danse and Arthur, they found it easy to find each piece of defense.

 

Rhys had set up near Goodneighbor, in an abandoned apartment building around the corner. It made sense, since dragging Deacon far would increase the odds they ran in to trouble.

 

Not to forget, Rhys still wanted Danse. No matter why he’d decided to take Deacon, his objective was to kill Danse. He wouldn’t go far.

 

When they entered a room, Danse tried to push Haylen behind him. She shoved him out of the way to see the room. A single chair sat near the window, blood staining the wood and puddling on the floor.

 

She fell to her knees, fingers running through the blood, some dry but a hell of a lot of it still wet. How hadn’t he reached out to her? She’d have helped him shoulder this, given him whatever strength she had. It brought tears to her eyes, the blood coating in her fingers.

 

She’d kill Rhys for this.

 

“They couldn’t have gone far,” X6 said. “I’m going to guess he heard us. There is only one way out of here, which is up.”

 

“Roof?” Glory rested her minigun on the floor. “He’d be trapped there. Why would he be that stupid?”

 

Arthur leaned his head out of the window. “No. That’s the smoke for a vertibird signal. He’s calling in reinforcements.”

 

X6 pointed out the door. “Stairs that way. Let’s go before anymore show up.”

 

Danse wrapped his hand around Haylen’s arm. “You can feel him. You know he’s alive. Let’s go help him, okay?”

 

Haylen shook but nodded, getting to her feet. Deacon was alive. She knew it. Weak and hurting, but alive, and alive was all that really mattered. 

 

Before she could go out the door, Rhy’s voice reached her, muddled, from the stairway the rest of them stood in. “Stay right there or Deacon dies.”

 

She took a step toward the doorway, but Danse lifted his hand behind the doorway. A signal to stay put.

 

“What do you want?” Danse’s voice stayed steady, calling out.

 

Haylen knew there was no shot. Rhys had to be standing on the other side of the doorway to the roof, which put Glory, Arthur, X6, and Danse between her and him. And perhaps Deacon at the end of Rhys’ gun.

 

“I want you and your friends to put your guns down and walk up here, hands up. Reinforcements will be here in a few minutes, and then I can hand you all over to them.”

 

Danse jerked his hand toward the window. He wanted her to run?

 

She couldn’t run. She’d never leave Danse and Deacon alone.

 

Never.

 

“Where’s Haylen?” Her name on Rhys lips had her wanting to snarl.

 

Arthur answered. “You believe I would bring a female field scribe into a battle like this?”

 

Haylen’s gaze locked on the window, the sniper rifle on her back heavy. Another building sat close by. Close enough to jump?

 

If she could get there, get to the roof, set up the shoot. . .

 

Deacon’s words ran through her head. Snipping was all about setting up the right shot. Haylen swung her body out of the window and onto the railing outside. The ladders had long before broke, but if gave her enough reach. She pulled her pistol, the one Deacon had given her with the silencer in case she ran into any ferals. She had to get to the roof without anyone knowing.

 

Haylen took a deep breath and leapt off the railing, aiming for the window in the next building.

 

#

 

Danse dropped his weapon, the same clatter as each other person did the same. The only thing he could see was Deacon’s face, bloodied and a mess of bruises and cuts.

 

The groan of metal told Danse Haylen had leapt for the next building. Good. At least she could escape, since it was looking like no one else would.

 

He’d take any win he could at this point.

 

Everyone walked forward, hands up. With Rhys having the gun to Deacon’s head, no one could risk an attack.

 

So much for taking him be surprise.

 

“This must be the courser I’ve heard about. Never thought the Institute mutts would side with the railroad.”

 

X6’s face didn’t shift, like the words didn’t sink in at all. “Mutts go where the food is, and you look delicious.”

 

Rhys twisted, keeping Deacon in front of him. “And you, Maxson? What the hell are you doing here? Why would you leave the Brotherhood like this over a synth? Your entire life was set up there, you had everything. You throw it all away for a thing?”

 

Arthur pulled his shoulders back. “I did what was right. If Elder Lyons taught me one thing, it was to do what was right.”

 

Rhys’ gaze darted between Glory and Arthur. “It was her, wasn’t it? You left for a skirt? Is she your mate or something? Well, I hope you aren’t attached yet.” Rhys moved his gun from Deacon to point it at Glory.

 

Arthur yanked Glory behind him before Rhys had a chance to pull the trigger. The shot struck Arthur’s shoulder, driving him backward, but he stayed on his feet.

 

“Stupid,” Rhys said  but didn’t fire again. He didn’t lift the gun, either. “You all are stupid. This is one stupid man and you risk all of your lives for him? You are all fools!”

 

#

 

Haylen took a deep breath and released it. She reached for Deacon as she lined up her shot. Don’t grip too tight.

 

Still, she shook. The adrenaline coursed through her and she didn’t know how to stop it.

 

Deacon’s gaze lifted to hers through the scope. Their link must have let him know where she was.

 

Calm slid through their link. He grinned, then winked.

 

Haylen took one more breath, let it slide out, then pulled the trigger.

 

#

 

Deacon fell forward when Rhys crumbled. Haylen had landed the shot. Fuck, that was a good shot.

 

He pressed his hand to his chest, sucking air in despite the pain in his lungs. He didn’t expect to live. Damn it. That meant he was going to need to pay Tom back from the last time he lost cards.

 

A hysterical laugh left his lips.

 

Metal touched his face, and he flinched away. 

 

“It’s only me.” Danse.

 

Deacon pulled himself up, fumbling with Danse’s helmet until he could get it off. He pressed his lips to Danse’s in a desperate kiss. Fuck. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see anything. Nothing existed but his lips against Danse’s.

 

He was going to live. Danse was going to live.

 

Deacon pulled away, and realized he’d left blood on Danse’s face. “Well, that can’t be sanitary.”

 

Danse laughed, cupping Deacon’s cheek in a gentle touch. “You scared me.”

 

X6 stepped in front of them. “This isn’t over yet. Vertibird incoming. We’ve got two minutes at most. Plan?”

 

Arthur turned toward the other roof where Haylen still sat. He called to her. “Toss me your pistol.”

 

Haylen followed the command, throwing the weapon across the distance.

 

Arthur walked over and leaned down beside Danse. “You have no reason to trust me, but I think I can get you out of this. The choice is yours. Do you trust me?”

 

Danse’s gaze darted between Haylen and Deacon, before he nodded. “Yes. I trust you.”

 

Arthur stood. “X6, Deacon, Glory, go. The Brotherhood will not return if they believe Danse is dead. I’m going to give them a good show.”

 

“What about you?” This question from Glory.

 

Arthur didn’t look at her, didn’t seem to notice the blood that dripped from his shoulder, from the wound he’d taken for her. “I’ll have to go back with them. Don’t worry, they won’t kill me. I’m the last Maxson. Get, now. You being here will complicate things.”

 

Glory took a step backward when Arthur, X6, and Glory all stumbled, the same pained groan escaping them, a pain Deacon remembered well.

 

Leave it to Nora to fuck up timing. Looked like the three of them just landed mates. 

 

Arthur and Glory locked gazes again. Arthur laughed and shook his head. “Figures. This doesn’t change anything. X6, get her out of here.”

 

X6 grabbed Glory by the waist and hauled her off the roof, Deacon pressing one last kiss to Danse’s lips before he followed, leaving Danse and Arthur alone.

 

#

 

“You know, I am sorry it has gone this way.” Arthur stared down at the weapon in his hand. “I really thought for a while there that things might work out. I thought that, perhaps, I could change everything. I could do something good. Life doesn’t work out like we want it to, though. Hope you aren’t too fond of your face, because this plan will take some blood. On your knees, please.”

 

Danse got to his knees, his power armor creaking as he did it.

 

Arthur gazed up at the vertibird, close enough for what needed to happen.

 

“Watch over Haylen, please. She deserves a good life. You both do. Ready?”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“I’m not your superior. All I want is to be your friend.”

 

Danse met his gaze and nodded. “You are my friend.”

 

Arthur gripped the pistol, looking over his shoulder one more time. Show time. He lifted the pistol and backhanded Danse. He couldn’t pull the hit, couldn’t risk it. The blow caused Danse to fall over to the side. Arthur leaned in, gripping Danse’s dogtags. He placed his foot on the center of Danse’s chest, then yanked the dogtags.

 

Arthur lifted the pistol and fired a single bullet. Close enough it grazed his cheek. Danse played his part perfectly, falling still.

 

The vertbird landed, and a scream from the next roof held so much pain, a new searing in his shoulder was no surprise. At least Haylen’s shock kept her from landing better shots. He rushed toward the vertibird, ignoring the next shot the struck near his foot. He needed her firing, to drive the vertibird to leave before investigating. No one in that vertibird would live beyond a few minutes anyway.

 

He just needed to go a little further and it would all turn into a pretty display of lights in the sky. 

 

 

The soldier in the vertibird helped haul Arthur in.

 

Just as he thought they made it, the door burst open and Glory came running.

 

The soldier raised his gun at her, but Arthur shoved the gun down. “Don’t shoot.”

 

“Who is that?”

 

Glory stopped, hands up, in front of the vertibird. “His mate. If you want any more Maxson’s, it looks like you can’t kill me.”

 

Arthur pressed his lips together in a furious glare as the soldier hauled Glory in, then smacked the seat of the pilot. The vertibird lifted, soaring off.

 

Glory reached her foot out and kicked Arthur’s leg. Yeah, he’d been well aware of that. Once the vertibird had gotten out of range of her, the explosive would have detonated.

 

He shrugged, trying to tell her he knew, that that was the plan, and she was still stupid.

 

Glory took a seat on the bench, crossing her arms and leaning back.

 

Well fuck, this wasn’t the plan.

 

#

 

Haylen collapsed. She sobbed, her head nothing but Danse’s still body. She’d been the one to throw Arthur the pistol, the one he’d used to kill Danse with.

 

“Haylen!”

 

She ignored the shout. It was just in her head. Nothing but Danse’s annoyed voice tormenting her.

 

Something his her arm. She lifted her head to see the rock. Then, across the roofline, she saw a sight she couldn’t believe.

 

Danse. Alive.

 

Haylen took off. She left the rifle, rushing to the side of the building. Without thinking, she hauled herself over the side, leaping down the one floor to the rusty railing she’d used earlier. She crawled into the window, then took the stairs. By the time she reached the rough, she was panting.

 

Deacon was already there, arms around Danse. Haylen ran into them both, the hard points of Danse’s power armor digging into her, but she didn’t care.

 

She pulled Danse down and kissed him while her hands wrapped in Deacon’s shirt, clinging to him, like he might leave while she was distracted.

 

When she broke the kiss, Deacon ran his thumb below her eyes, brushing away tears she hadn’t even realized she was crying.

 

“I thought I lost you both.” Haylen's voice came out tiny, terrified. 

 

“We’re fine. Everyone is fine,” Danse said, always the voice of reason, always the strong one.

 

“I’m significantly less fine than everyone else, but alive thanks to one hell of a shot. Though, since I didn’t die, I feel the need to take back that I love you shit to you both.”

 

Haylen slid her arm around Deacon’s shoulder to take some of his weight. “Sorry, you can’t take that back. It’s immortalized on the Goodneighbor fence forever. I’m going to make Hancock promise to never paint that fence. Anytime you try to tell us don’t love us, I’m going to make you go back and look at that wall.”

 

“That seems terribly time consuming.” Deacon released a theatrical sigh. “Fine. I love you both. Now, can someone help me go lie down?”

 

Danse rolled his eyes and went to Deacon’s other side to help. “Well, what do you know, I think he’s going to swoon.”

 

“This is not swooning. Swooning is for women in romance novels. This is passing out in a different and entirely manly way.” With that, he did pass out and Danse picked him up.

 

They’d already stimpacked him, so he’d be fine. Sore, and it would take him days to heal, but he’d live.

 

Danse leaned down and offered Haylen a kiss. “I’m sorry to tell you, but I think you’re stuck with him.”

 

“That’s all right. He’s grown on me.”

 

“And you’re stuck with me, too.”

 

She laughed as she looked at the two of them. Never, in any version of her life, would she have picked this. She hadn’t dreamed as a kid about falling in love with two men, about sharing her life and bed with two men, but maybe that showed a lack of imagination more than anything else.

 

She wouldn’t give up either of them for anything.

 

Haylen smiled and gave him a gentle kiss back. “Good. It took us long enough. Come on, let’s get our damsel home.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end!! Yay for these three! I might do a few one shots with them. They're too freaking cute.
> 
> Also, I'm trying to decide which couple to tackle next. X6/Rachel or Arthur/Glory. The two stories will happen during the same time frame but focus on different problems, so they could be told either one first. ALSO, Nuka world will be coming before too long, and our favorite Alpha will be getting a mate. :) 
> 
> Thank you so much to those who hung in there!!


End file.
